


Echoes of Legends

by Divediveburners



Category: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Far Future, Future Fic, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Space Opera
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 52,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26820796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Divediveburners/pseuds/Divediveburners
Summary: In the far future, humanity is now the supreme power in the galaxy. Lead by a terrifying eternal Emperor, their once mighty foes now tremble before them. Yet, while tyranny is a universal sin, so too is the desire for freedom. A ragtag group of fighters struggle against the once-soft Earthlings, with nothing but the echoes of old legends to guide them.





	1. Call to Live

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to the various beta readers who have assisted me, even if you could only help for a chapter or two, your critique was much appreciated. In no particular order; Goldie-with-a-pen, saiyansecret, OrdinarilyYours and Angel Wolf.
> 
> This story is going to heavily feature Original Characters, as it takes place long after Dragon Ball Z ended. Not many elements from Super, or GT will show up, as I haven't watched those shows enough to know the lore by heart.
> 
> This has been Rated T because the usual Dragon Ball violence is very much present. This includes a good amount of blood, broken bones, amputations and decapitations, and turning humans and humanoids into swiss cheese. I believe the majority of those familiar with the series should stomach this just fine, but just in case, you have been warned.
> 
> The following, and preceding material is a non-profit, fan-based story. Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT and Dragon Ball Super are all owned by Funimation, Toei Animation, Shueisha and Akira Toriyama. Please support the official release. Please also place your face within your palm as I had to copypasta this from Team Four Star, instead of having it memorized.
> 
> On with the story.

**Prologue**

"Arise."

Her eyes opened, beholding a masked man staring straight down. Light from his visage portrayed by crystal clear LCD provided the only illumination within her room. Crimson eyes burned through the screen, piercing straight through her soul. Not even the greatest mysteries held within the depths of her heart could hide for long.

Those ruled by the Galactic Terran Empire held no secrets.

"Arise," repeated the masked man. Even an image, formed by thousands upon thousands of pixels could inspire respect, even fear. Such was the nature of the Emperor, a composition of billions of parts, great and small. His loyal citizens, the military that served him without question, the vast expanse of the Empire itself; it all added to the grand majesty of the man who was broadcasted to all on every sunrise.

For twenty years, four months, and sixteen days, Ovosh rose from her bed in response. As always, her muscles were slow to respond. Considerable effort was required to move them from their place of rest. Such a task had been made more difficult due to the modest comfort her bed provided. However, the instincts of the body could be overcome with routines and repetition.

The girl wiped some gunk that had gotten beneath her eye as she walked carefully to the sink in her room. She held her hand over a sensor upon the dull-grey appliance, and activated the water. Splashing lukewarm liquid upon her face, she inspected the results in the mirror above as the faucet immediately shut off. As brown eyes scrutinized her reflection, they were drawn by something unprecedented.

Staring back at her now was a monster, a demon of some sort. Time and space were subject to its power. The creature's face was twisted in a sickening, unrecognizable way. A spiky mess of golden hair adorned its head, waving just as violently as the aura around it. Most disturbing, was that in some twisted, sickening way, the beast's face was clearly Ovosh's own.

It was only for a moment that she observed this specter. She performed a double-take, before investigating her reflection once more. The creature had departed, it was nothing but a bizarre mirage.

She proceeded to finish her morning tasks, resolving to banish the frightening image from her memory. Her hair was calmed down as to be presentable, while the necessary uniform was adorned to perform her role within the workforce. As she used the last of the water for neatening her brown, shoulder-length hair, a prompt illuminated the mirror. She had 10 gallons remaining for this month.

As she exited her room, others were doing the same. Every citizen appeared to line up with one another, step for step, a line of grey that ventured listlessly forward, an ending nowhere in sight.

In single-file, all headed towards the elevators, each armed with an expression that read blank. Ovosh's mind was currently mulling over her duties as a power plant worker. From the first clock-strike to the last, everything was organized for her.

If only destiny allowed her day to be that simple.

******************************* **ECHOES OF LEGEND** ***********************************

**Chapter 1: The Call**

In the elevator, Ovosh was one among many. Not a word was spoken to the other occupants. The same expression marked every face, each filled with contemplation on their day's tasks.

The cold, precise mechanics of the elevator hissed to a halt and opened its gray doors. The auditorium was large; open. It allowed the citizens a grand view of the skyline of their city. Logical, precise and utilitarian; each part fitted exactly where it needed to. No skyscraper reached higher than what the Empire required. Everything was in balance, in perfect harmony.

The city hall was large simply because a grand acropolis was essential. Many subjects could gather and witness the wisdom of their Emperor here.

Ovosh found her place among the crowd. The citizens hurriedly organized into blocks, forming straight lines and columns. Even the diagonals of these square blocks of humanity were flawless. Not one individual stood out, for they were only a piece in the grand formation.

Surrounding them stood the local military, all in full uniform. Steel-gray regulation jackets and pants adorned each of them. Creases were nonexistent. The shoulders of their jackets were proudly angled and broad. Black boots upon every soldier were free of smudges. Upon their heads were helmets colored a darker shade of gray. Beneath the empty black visors, and breathing behind the vented air filters, it was doubtful that there lay a human face.

These soldiers lacked visible weapons. Since the tumultuous old days, the human body itself was a formidable weapon in of itself.

A whistle was heard, and immediately, everyone's spine stiffened in response. In the center of the organized sea, there was a clearing. Centered within the clearing, stood a white podium.

It held hidden mechanisms of an electronic nature within its divine exterior. A soldier maneuvered through the crowd, making his way up to this podium.

He was of a superior rank, signified by his jacket. It possessed numerous additional dark sashes streaming from his left shoulder down to his right hip. Even in a computer, there were mechanisms that existed in a hierarchy.

His voice carried throughout the forum. A small microphone held in his hand allowed him to transmit all he said into the encompassing speaker system.

"Citizens, you're ordered to give your full attention. Our most powerful and wise Emperor is about to impart words upon us."

At his mention of the Emperor, what little chatter had ceased.

With that, the soldier retreated and gave his full attention to a specter that was forming above the podium. Blue light emitted from the device, projecting an image of a hooded figure. While the holographic image was in blue-scale, many could tell that the hood the man wore was immaculate white.

The mask itself was featureless. It was a blank face, with angled sockets for eyes, a nose, and a mouth. It showed no fear, anger, sadness, or happiness. Their Emperor always wore it. His cold, rational gaze pierced through the projection. Even a visage of the man filled the room with serene dominance.

"Loyal citizens, of our great Galactic Empire." His voice was a loud rumble, tempered by subtle sophistication and nuance.

"We stand as a beacon of order in chaotic times. From the ashes of the demons of old, I built this Empire to display humanity's might to the denizens, heretics, and pagans of this galaxy.  
The once-mighty alien forces, who viewed our blue world as nothing but commerce, now cower in fear of Terra's power.  
The ones who would murder for pleasure, who rejected our enlightened teachings, now slither and sulk in an unregulated, chaotic mess. They fight each other, as much as us."

The man's voice began increasing in fervor, and the crowd gravitated towards their Emperor, his mere words fueling their silent zealotry.

"I tell you! Who has the will to stand against us? The demons of the Planet Trade Organization, who bicker in their decadent pettiness? Whose only source of strength is nostalgic reminiscing?

No . . . And what about the terrorist organization 'Z'? Heretics who worship nothing but an echo!  
Who spend all their days wishing for a greater power to wipe us out! But I tell you my loyal subjects, my mighty military, there is no greater power than this!"

It was as if the entire room now held its breath, beheld by the momentary pause. A brief silence filled the auditorium, before he decreed to his captive citizenry ...

"The whole universe, and all its clusters of life, will hear our voice. Every star that burns bright, every black hole that sulks in darkness cowers before the echoes we leave _._ "

"Long live the Empire!"

The Emperor's last words were not a simple statement, they were a command. A command that all repeat the glorious statement, 'Long live the Empire,".

And the organized throngs of citizens did so, repeatedly. Thousands, upon thousands of voices cried out all at once, blending together to create a massive crescendo, a symphony of dedication to him.

Finally, the chant died down, and the citizens were dismissed. Even as they split up to attend to their daily tasks, they still managed to form organized groups. Various transportation hubs awaited them, as congealed, yet orderly crowds formed around them.

Ovosh had reached her action point, a high-speed monorail. As she waited, a peculiar event happened.

The morning sun broke through the skyline.

How interesting it was, their sun. The Vega star was blue-white in color, and so far away. How could something that far give them so much? It seemed to ignite the buildings with its brilliant light. All coloring derived from the brilliant hues painted the various structures in the skyline. She could only stare, transfixed by its magnificence.

The fact that it was mostly superheated hydrogen was an insignificant tidbit, an inadequate description of the splendor she witnessed. Even though long-distance space travel was now possible, and incredibly common, the star remained beyond her reach.

Then, the blue-hued spectacle vanished, the utilitarian shape of a high-speed monorail impeding her view. A black screen materialized over the windows, obscuring Ovosh's vision of an illuminated skyline. Nothing but black and gray remained. No such trace of the morning phenomenon remained.

Ovosh felt her shoulders slump, and experienced a growing pit within her stomach. As she blankly gazed ahead, her eyebrows twitched into a minute expression of confusion. What was witnessed was a simple sunrise. Not even that: the planet's rotation merely supplied the illusion of such. This event occurred numerous times during her lifespan, and it would continue after.

And yet, hunger still lingered within, something that would not be satisfied from her morning nutrition awaiting her at the destination.

The monorail ground to a stop, mechanisms hissing from below as the brakes were applied. The doors slid open, letting all those hopeful enter it's smooth compartment. Ovosh stepped into its interior dutifully, quickly assuming her assigned seat in the transport.

Once all citizens in this sector had boarded, the monorail zoomed away, ferrying them off to their duties.

It was dark inside, lit only by dim white ambiance as the black windows would not let even a stray particle of solar radiation pass through them. Once it had arrived at the power plant, the girl immediately rose from her seat.

She walked in formation with her fellow power plant workers. They were of different heights, different genders, different colors. None could be mistaken for one another, and yet, as they walked, each step matched the person ahead of them. Despite the vast variety in appearance, all appeared identical.

The terminal was a sterile white, possessing no color at all. A vast chasm flanked the path way, leading those who had the misfortune of falling off to a fate of cold steel and blood. No citizen expressed such acknowledgment of a fate. Every blank stare paid no heed except to what was right in front of them.

White doors greeted the workers, and dutifully parted to grant access to the building. The interior design they revealed of this particular structure exhibited slightly less order than others. Steel pipes flowed erratically, and wires crossed through, exposed to human interference, so as to transport the necessary power to critical sections.

Holding the formation as the group entered the mess hall. There were long tables which lined the inside. They lay upon a plain white tile floor, the seams of which those less visually gifted would have not seen. A serving area had been shoved off to the side. Compared to the vast volume of the hall, it covered very little area.

No personal manned the stainless steel slab. Instead, a square opening in the wall would slide out boxes which would then be immediately claimed by a worker. A line had formed at this hour, each waiting patiently for their morning nutrition.

Once it was Ovosh' turn, a mechanical voice reported, "Name: Ovosh, Id: VEG-0x9026, Gender: Female. Partitioning recommended calorie intake for time slot 7-11 A.M."

Her provision box was then automatically provided to her. Ovosh didn't even look down as her hands found the grip to it. She took off, easily finding a seat within the hall. Opening her box, she observed it was filled with many different colored cubes. These colors were for purely informational purposes. Brown was for starches, tan for proteins, green for vitamins, red for minerals, white for calcium, and so on.

As she began to ingest these, her fellow co-workers started taking seats next to her, not saying a word. Silently, they all opened their nutrition packs and consumed them. The cubes were stout, yet squishy. They had a very faint taste. Ovosh herself tended to savor the glucose cubes, though, again, she couldn't figure why this was the case.

Not a faint air of a conversation permeated the room. The only sound that could be heard was the mechanical voice rehearsing it's programmed line for each worker that approached it. It was a feat of superior programming, almost indistinguishable from those that it served.

Ovosh remained focused on her dwindling meal. Half of her nutrition had been consumed. Her sight then veered up, attempting to locate a clock.

Out of the very corner of her eye, she could spot a lone worker who didn't possess a nutrition box. He sat with his hands clasped, his right foot tapping on the cold-tiled floor, creating a rhythmic beat. Upon his head was vibrant, crimson hair that had clearly been neglected with regards to regulation grooming. The hair itself possessed a life of its own, veering off in every direction. Some hanging locks hung down in front of a well defined face, others pointing to the florescent ceiling.

But the most unsettling thing about him was that, periodically, Ovosh would see him glance in her direction. She would catch his brilliant azure eyes, which her own seemed to be trapped by. She tried to verify if he was staring off somewhere else, but he wasn't.

Ovosh could feel her muscles beginning to tense up. Her vision veered towards the entrance of the hall. She began to get the urge to leave immediately.

Her co-workers also noticed this anomaly, as they began giving this unknown worker confused looks. Some even realized her growing discomfort. The stranger had quickly averted his gaze, looking back at his folded, baggy hands. He continued tapping his foot against the floor. His brown work boots appeared older and rattier than anyone else's.

"I don't recognize that man, do you think he is a new acquisition?" Said one of her co-workers, a female by the name of Kras. She possessed strawberry blonde hair and muted green eyes. From her physical appearance, it could be discerned that she had lived a longer life than Ovosh.

"A very strange specimen . . ." Noted one of the males, a brown-haired one, who went by the name of Boris, "His conditioning might have been inadequate."

"If he possessed inadequate conditioning, he would not be present here," Ovosh noted.

She glanced back at him. He had now devoted his efforts to stare anywhere except where she was. _How did such an anomaly go unnoticed by our eugenics programs? If so, why were such behavioral quirks tolerated? If he had trouble conforming, he would have been disposed of._

All of the co-workers nodded in agreement. Ovosh's troubled thoughts began to die down. Her muscles had begun to loosen as she focused back on her fellow workers. Soon, familiarity had made things normal again.

But seeing so much out of the ordinary piqued something dangerous within her.

"Perhaps . . . It would be optimal to query him about his strange condition?" She offered, "It would be best to know his eccentricities, so that we may better integrate him into the system."

"A prudent suggestion ..." responded a dark-skinned, deep-voiced coworker. His name was Bosch. Ovosh had begun to raise her eyebrows upon Bosch's acknowledgement, yet his next statement took the breath away from her.

"...But it is unnecessary. The overseer and the conditioning division are the ones who see to that. We must be mindful to never go beyond our assigned duties."

"Right," murmured the various other coworkers.

But Ovosh could not find herself agreeing. despite her conformity with Bosch's sound logic. Even as every word aligned with what she knew, her feet still shifted. Even as every internal debate was resolved, her arms pushed against the table. As much as eating or sleeping, her very being required that she contact the red-haired man.

And so, her legs slowly pushed her to stand, closing her provisions box. Some cubes still remained in the vessel. Letting out a slow, quiet exhale, she began making her way towards that barren table. Her coworkers gave her confused looks, and rightfully so. Ovosh still felt this action unnecessary, and had shortened her strides in response. But she still moved forward, until she had made it to the spot opposite of the newcomer.

His foot had stopped tapping, and he stopped looking at his clasped fists. His head slowly raised, azure meeting dark brown once more.

"Well?" He asked.

Ovosh's face had become blank. She quickly blinked twice. _Well_ _what_ _? What was the context of that question?_ _At least, his exaggerated inflection seemed to indicate that it_ _was_ _a question. What use did he expect to gain from asking something so vague?_

"You display deviant behavior, fellow co-worker. I was . . ."

It was as if the script she had memorized had been torn off at the end. Left with not a clue what to say, Ovosh's mouth remained open, yet nothing came out.

"Was your curiosity piqued?" He filled in.

The powerplant worker tilted her head, confused by the concept he presented.

"My curiosity?" She questioned, "I'm not sure what you mean by that."

"You know," He urged, his lips forming into a concave curve; both ends pointing upwards. It was an expression she had rarely seen, but she could tell what it meant.

Usually, someone would register that expression if something productive was accomplished in less than the estimated time, or upon hearing news of Imperial victories over the barbarians and terrorists.

"Why else would you come here?" He finished, a question of his own, _at least a coherent and complete one_.

"I- . . . I-"

Her words, usually so regulated and rehearsed, were now dancing away on a cloud. Brown eyes darted around, seeking to engineer a solution to this problem.

She caught herself staring into the stranger's face, into his vibrant eyes. Her face began to heat up, leading to suspect that something was quite wrong. The temperature in the building had not changed. As such, there was no need for her body to compensate for any loss of heat.

"Overseer!" Shouted a distant voice.

Ovosh's spine once more straightened and stiffened. Her hands, one of them still clutching her nutrition box, went limp, and down to her sides.

A man in military uniform was framed by the entrance to the mess hall. He also exhibited a strong posture, just as all the other workers who had ceased in all activity. But, instead of standing with his heals together, splaying out the toes, his feet were spread shoulder's length apart, and his hands were rested behind his back instead of at his sides. He was a substantial man, height-wise. He had the advantage over nearly every worker in the power-plant, save for possibly Bosch.

The man wore the same uniform as the high-rank soldiers. Instead of a black sash, however, he was fit with a muted golden one. It appeared to gleam brighter as he straightened his posture. If there was any sentiment left in the biological meat-bag, it would be pride.

The overseer then loosened his stance, still managing to appear far taller than his designated height. This was a signal that the other workers were to do the same, and in synchronization, the whole room had dropped their posture.

He began making his way through the mess hall, clearly headed in her and the mysterious man's direction. Each step he made was heavy, and hit the tile floor with the sound of a large drum. However, there was some measure of control he exerted in his walk. His clean-shaven, slightly-aged face wore a neutral, yet serious glare which could have proved itself of greater durability than Imperial steel.

Finally, he reached their position, stopping almost instantaneously, his boots making a small squeak upon the drab, tile floor. He gave Ovosh a rather unassuming glance. She was looked over for but a moment, before he directed his attentions to the stranger.

"And who would you be?" He asked, his voice gruff and commanding, "I was not notified of a new acquisition to Power Plant Vega 48."

"Hm? Oh!" The stranger responded, light perspiration forming on his face.

"Right- Ah, sorry about that sir. You should find me in the database, it was a rather quick transfer."

"Really?" Inquired the overseer, raising an eyebrow, "It is the protocol that new transfers, whether they be off or on-planet, are vetted by me. Said-information is provided by the authorities of the source. It is not good practice to violate these rules; communication is critical for the health and efficiency of the Empire."

"Huh, yeah I guess I forgot this time huh? Sorry about that." Instead of a steady and regulated speech, words simply seemed to flow out of his mouth like a defective pipe.

As the stranger babbled on, the overseer brought his right arm out in front of him, level with his chest. Immediately, the red-haired man had gone silent. There was a small key-pad attached upon the overseer's wrist. He keyed in a sequence of inputs, and a holographic screen was projected, right in front of his face.

The stranger's form became a shadow in the illuminating projections emitting from the overseer's wrist. Names, faces, and other information, both common and intimate raced from the top of the screen, to down below. Yet, consuming such information left the overseer's face blank and still. Finally, a face that matched that matched the young man had entered the sliding list.

"Id: ESP-0x4dea4, Name: Kei, Status: newcomer, training required in the regulatory division," read the profile.

"Ah, I see," Commented the overseer, his voice barely changing in inflection.

The overseer then took his stare off the device on his wrist and directed it towards the worker named 'Kei.'

"It is fortunate," he added, "That you have taken a position near the regulator division".

He then motioned back to Ovosh, who had maintained her posture. Upon becoming the subject of his attention, Ovosh appeared to grow two inches as every vertebrae in her spine shifted in submission.

"We need a day to get you acquainted with the system" the overseer further explained, despite keeping his eyes on the young woman. "Unfortunately, since I was strangely not notified of your transfer, we will not be able to provide provisions for you. Not until I send a notice to the metropolis center, that is. Do you believe you can learn this duty to the best of your ability, despite insufficient nutrition?"

Everything the big man exposited was precise and to the point. It was as if the words had been programmed inside of his brain, before he had spoken them.

"Yes, sir!" Kei responded loudly.

The overseer grimaced at the unusually upfront statement. Turning completely around, he headed to the exit of the mess hall. Before he departed, he added in a voice not too low, "And we'll probably have to refine those behavioral quirks of yours, but that shouldn't require anything too drastic."

His large frame had then vanished, almost marching straight out. Ovosh exhaled, her body able to release the strain previously exerted upon it. She looked to her new comrade.

To her knowledge, they were fully staffed in the regulator and control division. A large amount of time had passed, however, before such an acquisition. Modification of the makeup of the division was necessitated by physical health, or should another duty be required.

Something popped to the forefront of her mind; and her eyes began to trail down, away from Kei, and down to her arm that clutched the steel-covered box that contained her provisions.

Ovosh lifted the box, bringing it to her chest. Thoughts swimming within her head had become murky, yet she moved with purpose. And with such purpose, her arms shot forward, presenting her provisions to the newcomer.

"These are some provisions I have not yet consumed. It would be beneficial if I reserved them for you."

Kei immediately turned to her. One eyebrow was raised. The lips upon his mouth folded inward.

"Why are you talking like that?"

"Excuse me?" She replied.

"Why are you speaking so robotically?" For but a moment, it was as if Kei had managed to dispel all undesirable qualities in his speech. He had freed himself from inflection, from unconventional pronunciation, and had tightened the delivery of his words.

"You say that as if that was a defect." Ovosh responded.

"Uhuh . . ." Back he was at it again. Yet, instead of the words flying out of his mouth, they now appeared to be drooling out of it. Ovosh was surprised there was no literal accompaniment to this.

Brushing away the quirkiness, she held her hands up, giving the man her box of food. The man's eyes widened, appreciative, if taken off guard a bit. He was not to be blamed. It was indeed a strange thing that she was doing. But, he wouldn't learn any other way if his body was completely depleted for the morning shift.

"That's very kind of you," he said, his mouth curling into that peculiar formation once more.

There was something indeed intriguing about this facial tick he did, it made Ovosh herself feel . . . Happy.

"There are many tasks and protocols to observe in this duty," She countered, "What I am doing is logical."

"It's logically kind of you." He quipped, his mouth now open, but his teeth were closed.

This new expression, now displaying his incisors and canines, stirred even more of this strange sensation within her. She prompted him to take the provisions box, and he did just that. Once he'd opened it, his arms nearly vanished from sight, as he appeared to aspire to stuff as many cubes in his mouth as quickly as possible.

" Slow down!" The girl cautioned, "There is still an insufficient amount for the morning, consuming them slower will allow your body to optimize nutrition intake."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," He apologized. Some of the cubes were still partially broken down in his mouth. Ovosh winced at this, then felt a presence behind her.

Turning her head, her coworkers had gathered around, clearly intrigued by the exchange taking place.

"We should hurry up," Kras, suggested, "It is nearing the hour that we begin our shift."

"Agreed," She concurred, then motioned to Kei to get into formation. He wasn't exactly the best person to lead; he formed a clear aberration in their formation, now with seven people.

"Are you sure that was a pragmatic action?" A low voice questioned behind her.

It was Bosch, and he was wearing concern on his face like an old friend.

"Would you please specify the action?" Ovosh replied, now once again feeling her face heat up. But this was a different kind of heat, a more volatile one.

"You partitioned your unfinished nutrition cubes to our new co-worker. You will both have insufficient nutrition for the morning. Are you sure you will be able to operate at 100% efficiency?"

"Your concern is noted," She responded, nodding at Bosch's valid query, "I am confident that I will be productive this morning. In fact, I volunteer myself to instruct this 'Kei', in the workplace.  
Relaying basic information should not be as energy intensive."

"If you are to be instructing him, then the rest of the group will have to increase our efforts," Bosch noted.

It was indeed concerning, the complete imbalance that this stranger had wrought. Usually, preparations would be made for a teaching day. Certain workers would be partitioned to teach new transfers the specifics, schedules would be adjusted, and nutrition would be modified to account for these modifications. With no prior warning, the entire system was crippled.

. . .

A mess of wires, color-coded for convenience, was in a wild bloom. Of course, the wires were well-organized, at least to Ovosh's specifications. She was currently clipping some over onto various places upon the green hardware-board she was working on. Kei was rather close behind her. His body appeared to radiate much heat, thus Ovosh was perspiring more than usual. She found no need to alleviate this, however.

The floor they were on was vast. Dozens upon dozens of workers were glued to their devices. Some toggled several white levers. Others on the floor were preoccupied with the same task Ovosh was. And still, others were simply monitoring computer screens.

There was little chatter. Everything was related to the job at hand. Few questions were asked, for it was expected one knew what to do.

Ovosh was conversing far more than usual for her day. As she laid out the technical explanations to Kei, his eyes were lit with fascination.

"This is a simple rewiring. Different parts of the city require different voltages, gains, and current during different times of the day. This schedule varies depending upon which day of the week it is. Right now, the ore-processing division of the city typically increases production by 40%, as the miners are currently delivering the raw ore to the plant. As such-"

A blue wire and yellow wire were loosened, then she directed these two together to a different destination on the vast motherboard. She flipped some switches, and her changes to the power portioning were saved.

"Your group has control over the entire city?" Kei commented.

"Not exactly," She countered, "If an inefficient change is made, we are notified. The overseer enforces any change from then on. Failure to comply results in removal from that duty. It is grounds for immediate termination."

"Scary," Kei noted.

Ovosh raised her eyebrows. _Scary? What was there to fear?_ _As long as I fulfill my duty to the Empire correctly, there is no chance of being terminated._

Even drastic dips in efficiency were solved by relocation and reconditioning. But what was there to fear with termination? She herself possessed little, so by losing her life, she would lose little. Her duty to the Empire would be fulfilled either way.

"Think little of it, the Empire will provide," Ovosh recited.

She could observe the red-headed man bow down his head a little. She speculated that his rather sparse nutrition was running low. _The administration should take care of this little hiccup in the system by the next day. Hopefully, production would not drop below acceptable levels._

"Don't you feel scared?" He suddenly asked. It was unknown by what process he could have conceived of such an inquiry, but she had come to expect that as of now.

"A peculiar, and rather unnecessary question." Ovosh retorted, "We are wasting time."

"But it _is_ necessary," Kei responded, his demeanor dead serious, "Aren't you worried you could just be tossed aside, without warning? Anyone in charge deems you expendable, boom- that's it!"

Blood was beginning to rush to his face. Still, he kept on rambling.

"I don't know about you, but that frightens me. I can't sleep knowing someone has that kind of power over me."

Ovosh gave him a long hard look. There was something wrong with this man, fundamentally wrong. He could not think the correct way. He was one who let disturbing thoughts, no, welcomed the disturbing thoughts into his mind. She felt a knot tie within her stomach, and slowly but surely, she began to back away. Conclusions formed within her mind from the only logical deduction.

Before she could ponder any longer, the door to the regulator room was thrust open with incredible force. The overseer had appeared once more, and he wore the sternest expression on his face. She could tell that his expression was not directed towards her.

He was accompanied by two military personnel, their sleek, dark-gray helmets expressionless, surely as the people behind them were.

The overseer approached Kei rather slowly, like a rolling storm.

Ovosh began sweating like a fountain. A deep desire began forming within the confines of her body, the need to exit the room as soon as possible. But, her muscles would not respond to her commands.  
Therefore, she stood at attention, in respect for her superior.

"I have double-checked the databases for our power plant. It appears as if you, ESP-0x4ea4, are indeed a registered worker."

The overseer cleared his throat, while the girl could observe Kei swallow something, despite the fact that he had explicitly annihilated his partial nutrition partition for the morning.

"I was concerned that I was not notified of your transfer. I wanted to ensure this would not occur again. Therefore, I checked the planetary database for your information, to ascertain your previous workplace."

The man's expression did not change. Ovosh attempted to avert her gaze, for she felt if she would look her overseer in the eyes, her entire head would disintegrate.

". . . The results were astounding."

At this, Kei's body visibly stiffened, perhaps the first time he displayed any desirable rigidity. His expression changed, as his eyes began narrowing, and various facial muscles began contorting.  
There was something else, something in the air that Ovosh could feel within her bones. Something large, something massive, something dangerous.

"I found no record of citizen ESP-0x4ea4. I then contacted the capital itself, and was granted a search. I still was unable to locate an ESP-0x4ea4 within the Imperial census. This means you are unregistered in the Empire."

The overseer's mouth began to form into a very disturbing formation. A smile; that's what it was called.

But unlike when Kei would use one, this action felt more frightening. It was as if the air itself died, and Ovosh was inhaling it's lifeless carcass. She began experiencing tremors through her body, struggling between trying to run, and trying to stay put.

"Now, why would there be an unregistered citizen in the power plant?" The man interrogated the boy with his eyes.

"Well, I can explain- " Kei began, but he was swiftly cut off. The tone of Kei's voice, had lost all hints of a desirable, submissive quality.

It was laced with something quite different.

"Obviously, you wanted access to the power plant, but you do not seek to contribute to the Empire. Which leads me to conclude that you are a terrorist."

The air had begun to heat up, and congeal. Ovosh could have used a precision-cutting tool to slice through the dank atmosphere that had all of the sudden, filled the room. She was sure the environmental controls had not malfunctioned.

Her heart was now in her throat. Wide, brown eyes looked, almost pleadingly at Kei. Never had she through that deception and destruction were his motivations.

"I'm no terrorist," Kei countered.

He stared straight into his aggressor's eyes, with intensity that could have only been matched by the Vega star. "I'm a freedom fighter."

The next sequence of events happened far too fast for the worker to comprehend. The terrorist thrust his hands forward, and from it, emerged a bright volatile yellow light. This was in tandem with an intense, almost inhuman shout. The light was clearly corporeal, it had mass and weight.

A split second later, it had velocity. It was this force that propelled the light straight into the overseer, blasting him through the adjacent wall. The metal material bent out as it buckled under severe pressure.

Chaos unleashed as the light detonated.

The resulting explosion spewed an orange inferno of fire and black clouds of smoke. The force from this explosion impacted Ovosh, rocking her right off her feet. She crashed square into the wall closest to the control panel. Concrete, metal, and various other materials that made up the building flew around in a tumultuous mess. Shockwaves from the cataclysm rocked the room, and various workers flew away from their posts, propelled by the first existential force they had ever experienced.

As the smoke began to clear, she could spot the outline of Kei. His hair was even more raggedy than before, and his eyes held the most frightening light in them. He was visibly grunting, clearly struggling after having forced out such destructive power.

It was in the woman's natural instinct to begin inching away slowly from this barbaric display of power. Ovosh struggled to tear her vision away from the image of evil incarnate.

But upon seeing her struggling form, his expression softened. He rushed over, holding out a hand to offer his one-time mentor assistance.

"No! Get away!" She shouted.

A curious sensation on the vocal chords shouting had, for she had so rarely done so.

"I'm sorry," He apologized, "I didn't want to do this. Destruction isn't my way, but the overseer left me no choice. This was his doing."

Her breathing eased as she heard this. For some reason, it actually comforted her. Comfort, however, would not last long.

An alarm began sounding, changing pitch continuously and periodically. It sounded throughout the entire city. Military personnel levitated from their original positions, and headed off to where they were needed.

Their flight defied the natural order of gravity, a simple tactic when mastered. There was little chatter, and little panic, among the civilians. They received instruction from the citywide speakers. It was time, the military held control.

Inside the power plant, Kei expressed his frustration.

"Crap!" He swore, "This is gonna get messier than I wanted."

He turned to the girl once more, "If you want to live, come with me."

She exhaled in surprise, "And what can you do to assist me? Only the Empire can provide such protection-"

"Stop talking like a robot and move!" He yelled over her spiel.

She looked at him. It felt as if her insides were being torn apart, but not from physical forces or malicious infection.

"The Empire's after me, so they'll cut their losses if it gives them the advantage." he urged, "I beg of you."

He would not get an answer. The two guards that had accompanied the overseer emerged from the rubble. Their creasless jackets were ruffled. The stainless fabric had been smudged. More importantly, their hands were up, and their knees were crouched, ready to spring forward. Ovosh could feel the air congeal once more.

Both guards fired off energy blasts of their own, substantially smaller and weaker than the attack they had suffered through. The man raised his arms into a defensive formation and then swung them aggressively towards the attacks, successfully batting the blasts away.

The projectiles impacted against the ceiling of the room. Upon detonation, the wayward attacks vaporized several chunks of debris.

The guards used the long-range assault as a distraction. Now, they were within close-combat distance of Kei and began throwing punches at him.

He was all-to-willing to engage, absorbing the attacks with his elbows, and ducking under others. A supersonic frenzy of moves went back and forth, tearing away at the air with lightning speed.

Kei struck out with a punch of his own, right into one of the guards' stomachs. The soldier flew through a concrete wall.

The second used this opportunity to prepare a more potent attack, but Kei got the jump on him.

Interrupting the guard with a quick jab to the teeth, following with a shot to the stomach. Kei's offensive was punctuated with an energy blast. It shook the ground, and tore the assailant through a south-side wall.

As he secured victory, the ground beneath began to collapse, and unfortunately, Ovosh was in the sinkhole. Beginning to slide forward, she reached out to a nearby rail for support.

Too slow in her reflexes, the girl began to plummet off the broken ledge. The room below was a large industrial chamber. An open sphere hummed in baritone murmurs, a workhorse for the entire factory.  
It was connected to numerous panels and hardware by long steel cables. It was in the heart of the building, where Ovosh knew her end was nigh.

For the first time in her life, ever since she left the womb, she screamed.

But death was not to come. Kei dived in after her, and managed to grab hold of her forearm. For several moments, he floated in the chamber, standing on nothing but his own power. She dangled in his grasp, as the few extra breaths he had granted her rapidly escaped from her mouth. A desperate look was all she could manage, as the whites of her eyes expanded, gazing upwards into the face of her rescuer.

Slowly, but surely, he descended to the ground, laying Ovosh down as carefully as possible.

"You. . . You prevented me from being terminated." She stuttered, traumatized, "But why? Why concern yourself with the integrity of my life?"

Kei gave her a lengthy stare, before responding, "Well, I'll put it simple. Because I care about you. I care about everyone. I would rather be a mindless monster, than a heartless beast."

"Then what of the lives of those you endangered above?" The retort stifled the boy.

His hands shook, his eyes reddened, and his voice faltered. It was as if Ovosh herself dealt him a deadly physical blow that he was still recovering from. He was backing away from her as if she were now a disgusting creature that he had to be rid of.

"I-I didn't think about that. I didn't-" He bowed down and shook his head, "I never wanted to hurt anyone."

His head shook. Strength had returned to his form, and he glanced back up, eyes locking with Ovosh's.

"I'm only human. If someone's gonna attack me, I'll defend myself and anyone else I can."

Ovosh looked up from where she had fallen. In the vast chamber, the hole in the ceiling appeared to be an insignificant dot. Her eyes began to move downwards, the process taking nearly an eternity before they stared at the cool steel floor.

"Why me?" She whispered.

Kei closed his eyes, and gave deep snorted exhale. Upon opening them once more, his face wore a weighted expression. His tone matched that as well.

"You're special. I don't know if you know about it, I'm not sure even the full extent of it. But, I do know that you possess potential. You might be the only person who can change things."

"Potential?" Ovosh questioned, having difficulty comprehending what he was claiming.

"Yes, potential. Power," Kei confirmed, "Something within you burns to be let out, and when it's brought out, you'll change this galaxy forever."

He began slowly walking towards her, having fully regained his composure.

"I asked you a question earlier, that if you're scared of being a tool for your Empire. I asked if it bothers you, if you were scared of being nothing but a statistic, regarded as nothing but a number. Simply something to be used, and once they use you up, thrown away in the trash. Where I come from, the way I was raised? That frightens me down to my core. I don't like to feel powerless."

For a moment, a small, stilted exhale exited Kei, and he flashed a brief smile.

"Of course, then again . . . I don't like to lose _._ "

He returned to his deadly serious state. Now, Ovosh could stare straight into his eyes. The green orbs appeared to be windows into something limitless.

"I wanna give you something you've never had before. A choice."

"A choice?" The wide-eyed worker queried. Her mouth appeared to trace the word as it exited. This one was new, unfamiliar. Hence, it shared much in common with Kei. Ovosh's eyes darted back to the generator. From her first day in the factory, it ran. Mechanics within it rotated, oscillated in a perpetual motion, continuing it's low ambient melody. It had appeared to drown out the sirens that now rocked the city, and the patter of footsteps that coursed through the factory.

The wall behind the generator led to the outside world. It would be such a trivial task for Kei to vaporize it ...

"A real, actual choice," he elaborated, "I'm want you to join Z. We're warriors who don't fear the Empire. Ya could say we're from all over the galaxy, but that's a little less accurate. Some of us come from different star clusters altogether. We're a long way from home . . . We wanna offer everyone across the galaxy, who cries out for peace, the freedom of decisions.  
It's the passion for life. And the opportunity to break through their own limits."

Ovosh turned back, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Those are blasphemous words you spout. I cannot trust you-"

Kei nodded, and at this, Ovosh kept her mouth shut. "I know. I didn't say it'd be easy to make this choice, but I'm not forcing you to join Z. I would be no better than the Emperor himself if I did that. But surely there's some part of you that's interested in this? Some part of you's itching to see, what's beyond the bubble the Empire's kept you in?"

Ovosh felt an itch. It had affected her tongue. It was in the form of a word. She opened her mouth, desire deep within her, compelling her to push the word out.

And yet, her blood ran cold, freezing it in place.

"We don't got forever for you to decide."

As Ovosh pondered, debating on an entirely new experience for her, she could see Kei disrobe his worker's shirt. Underneath, he displayed a form-fitting, navy blue tank top. He was an impressive physical specimen, with toned muscles that were streamlined; stout enough not to be a burden.

She could see him talking to a device on his wrist. It was presumed he had fellow terrorists to contact. His words were almost unintelligible, for his forearm had obscured his mouth. As she witnessed this, her blood seemed to grow colder, and colder.

"I cannot join you," Ovosh declared. She showed no assertation, nor pride, nor shame in her decision. Her face had gone neutral once more, and her inflection had reverted to that of an automated voice generator.

She couldn't read Kei's expression, but continued with her elaboration. "It is not possible. I cannot trust an enemy of the Empire. I will not do so."

"And that's your final choice?" Kei replied, his voice shaking. It had gone soft and airy, almost as if he was whispering.

"Yes," Ovosh confirmed.

The man exhaled, frustrated. He brought one of his hands up to rub his temples. Her decision clearly bothered him, but he shouldn't have been surprised.

"Then . . . I guess this is it," He whispered. There was a lump in his throat, a lingering sadness.

"I can tell that you're a good person, Ovosh," Kei said. He was now right up close to her, making her rather nervous. He put a hand on her shoulder.

"Keep on bein' a good person, no matter what the Empire says I am. Think about what I've told you. I mean, really think about it. Maybe we'll meet again someday."

The words stirred something inside her.

This was unique . . .

"It-. . . It was good meeting you. You are indeed a peculiar specimen. Despite the clear threat you possess - I found you rather . . ."

Ovosh didn't get to finish her statement. Her collar was filled with something hot, vibrant. It didn't take long for her to realize it was a wave of plasma.

This same energy had traveled through her left collar, and pierced Kei's chest directly.

Behind her was the source of this attack, the overseer. He was breathing heavily, his right arm extended with two fingers pointed at his target. The entire left side of his face was covered in streams of blood that trickled from a ghastly head wound. The impact had been hard, almost crushing his skull. His left arm was torn up from jagged metal, and had some notable shards embedded.

Smoke trailed from the tips of the fingers upon his right hand.

"Thank you Ovosh, you have gone above and beyond the call of duty," he declared, breathing heavily.

A growing darkness expanded from the point of impact, and she felt her muscles grow limp as she collapsed on the ground.

She wanted to say something, but a viscous liquid flooded her mouth. It began flowing out, dribbling down her chin, and to her neck. This liquid was the exact same as the one that flowed from her collar. It stained her uniform, painting it with the morbid shade of death.

Kei fell soon after, landing directly on the girl. He was unable to speak, as the blood flooded his lungs. Twisting himself with his remaining strength, he managed to lift himself off Ovosh' body, and flopped off onto his shoulder blades.

He was flat on his back, slowly soaking in a tide of crimson. The overseer was now slowly approaching him, a satisfied expression on his face.

"Y-you bastard," Kei sputtered, "How-how could you . . . ? Your own people? You heartless-"

The overseer ignored him for the moment, glancing at Ovosh's fallen form.

"Citizen VEG-0x9026, your sacrifice will not be forgotten. You will be held as an example of what every citizen in the Empire should aspire to be."

The honor was meaningless. Honor as a concept was itself as irrelevant in the Empire as emotion. Ovosh was all alone now. Nothing but darkness was her company. No brave new world. The overseer was wrong; citizen VEG-0x9026 would not be remembered. She, and that title, would fade into the same obscurity countless others had.

Trembling had taken hostage her muscles. Yet, this was not due to the uncontrollable instincts of the body. As the sands of time begun to run empty, Ovosh's mind wandered into pure terror. Her arms wrapped around her breast, and she began to desperately breath, sucking in the precious last bit of oxygen that would only delay the inevitable by mere seconds. Soon, the gasps would become whispers, and after the whispers faded away, her terrible destiny would be realized.

Yet, within the trembling confines of her soul, there was something else. It was as a burning fire, a fire that had raged since she had obtained consciousness. The girl did not cease trembling, yet these convulsions had take upon a far different nature. Perspiration had awakened the dead glazed over eyes, and it was red-hot.

For a few brief seconds, she could behold the outside world once more. For a few brief seconds, her tether to the realm of the living had strengthened. For a few brief seconds, she could only focus upon one phenomenon.

Kei's face, sickly pale, leaking blood from his mouth, and sporting half-lidded eyes that threatened to shut forever, had consumed her vision. Ovosh felt her shocked exhale impeded, but she knew not why this was. From red-stained lips, a hoarse croak could be heard.

"There was only one, but it was always for you."

A small, smooth object had entered her own mouth. The warmth of Kei's hand then passed to her chin. Mustering the last of his strength, Ovosh's jaw was moved, and the object he had slipped in crumbled away and dissolved.

Ovosh's brown eyes were briefly freed from their captivity of the young warrior's face, and made it's way to his torso. A gaping hole, far larger than the one that hindered her, lay square in the center of his abdomen. She could even observe the cauterized remains of vital organs clinging at the edge of the wound.

And with such a wound, not even someone as superhuman as Kei would survive it for long. The young man fell forward, his head striking the cold steel floor with percussive finality. The weight of his corpse had pinned the girl down, as blood had begun to taint her gray worker's uniform.

With the departure of Kei's life, new energy had been passed to Ovosh. A deafening silence permeated the cold mechanical factory, yet this was merely the calm preceding the storm.

A quaint rumble had begun, indiscernible from the whirring of gears, or the pumps of pistons. Quaint it did not remain. Soon, the rumbling had increased that it rattled these very gears, and shook those very pistons. Dust and debris was moved under this new power, losing contact with the ground, remaining suspended in the air, as if held by some invisible hand.

Ovosh's vision was now clear. There was still darkness, but it had been illuminated by an intense golden light. The monster that had haunted her mirror lay opposite of her once more. Where she originated, the girl could not tell. Yet, as the sea of emotion within her churned, she could speculate that the turbulence had somehow evoked the creature. Icey, teal, pupiless eyes glared at Ovosh most sternly, as if it was expecting that she knew what to do next.

Her hands tightened, her chest twitched. When once, her bones and muscles threatened to become mere masses of decomposable, fossilized material, now they were pulsing and full of life. The girl squirmed and wiggled, she was free from Kei's corpse. For a moment, the storm ceased as she gazed upon the young man's lifeless body. The trickle of blood that flowed from him had become a flood. His face was eternally buried in the cold metal floor. Despite this, his eyes were peacefully closed, forever locked in eternal sleep.

A barbaric scream was then unleashed, rising in pitch and intensity as it dragged on. The generator's mechanics appeared to freeze from the sheer power of the scream. It was a scream that personified all taboo emotions Ovosh held in her heart, that had been brought to the surface this very moment.

This even, of course did not go unnoticed by the overseer, who snapped round in an instant. He was greeted by the view of a once dying civilian now standing, over the corpse of an enemy of the Empire. He would not mistake the scream originating from anyone other than the civilian herself. Yet, what would be alien to this pillar of Imperial strength, was the forbidden source that powered this scream.

_Rage!_

A pale-blue, volatile aura surrounded her. While she had managed to stand, Ovosh still struggled to maintain her balance. This rage that coursed through her veins proved adequate an adequate brace.  
Her mind had lost all it's sanity that the Empire had programmed, and because of that, there was one clear action. The fog had cleared, and the object of her fury stood before her.

"How dare you?" She seethed, her voice charred. Various materials began splintering under the force of her power. Twisted metal, chunks of drywall, rivets and bolts, all within the immediate vicinity had been marked for further destruction. The ground underneath her feet began to warp and buckle, cracking as it was strained in ways it had not been designed for.

"Damn you!" She began repeating, her voice steadily growing louder.

A layer of perspiration had assailed the once stoic expression upon the overseer's face. He moved his legs, but it was not to advance, it was to retreat.

"Citizen VEG-0X9026, stand down! Now!" He demanded, holding out his good arm with the threat of vaporization. Another step was taken away from the volatile civilian. The genetically impeccable heart within had begun to race, rattling his ribcage.

"Damn you! Damn you all!" She screamed the words at him.

He released a bright blast of energy, filling the generator room with a blazing orange inferno. This inferno could not be contained, and spewed out of any available ventilation, to the cityscape beyond.

With nothing but thick black smoke within his vision, the overseer lowered his arm. His breath had become short and slow, lest he accidentally inhaled the ash of whom he had destroyed. Exhaling, he took another step back.

"Damn you…"

His eyes widened as he thrust his arm around for a back-handed swing, aiming for the recognizable rasp he heard behind him. The momentum of the blow had brought him around, face to face with the civilian. She was almost unrecognizable from the picture-perfect image of Imperial discipline she had been a mere hour before. Her shoulder length hair was now wild and disorganized. Her once neatly plain gray uniform sported various holes and out of place threads, not to mention that nearly half of it was stained blood-red. Next to her was the still corpse of the enemy, a long trail of blood tracing where she had dragged him.

His back hand struck her across the face, his monstrous strength only succeeding in turning her head to the side. Ovosh's retaliation was quick, instinctive, and utterly disproportionate, as she unleashed a balled fist at the overseer's stomach. The man spat out blood as the attack crushed his ribs.

Drool exited his mouth as he backed away once more. His arms wrapped around his chest, which threatened to fall apart and spill out all of his vital organs.

Ovosh could only glare at the now pitiful sight of her previous superior with livid disgust. Red veins tainted the whites of her eyes. Even the blood vessels that bulged from her temples appeared ready to burst.

"You are going to suffer!" Her wrath swelled, as well as her power. A single task occupied the mind; the utter destruction of the man before her.

There was nothing to say. The overseer could only let out blood and phlegm dribbling from his mouth. Arms wrapped in neatly pressed sleeves remained glued to a torso barely glued together. The gray material had obtained new, unintentional wrinkles within, as well as grotesque stains.

The smoldering aura of the citizen he opposed swelled, pulsed and expanded. Such was its advance, he could no longer discern where it ended. Smoky air now had become thick and heavy. Such was its viscosity, that he threatened to succumb by suffocation, if the excess fluid leaking into his throat did not finish the job first.

Pale blue energy, which had only warped the air around it, now had concentrated to such a degree that it impeded vision. Ovosh had become enveloped in an opaque phenomenon. Her feral form remained barely visible within the volatile conflagration. She had bent at the knee, threatening to get on all fours. 18 years of relentless discipline suffered a terminal fate, as she was rendered to little more than a raging beast.

There was a bright flash of white light. In an instant, Ovosh had found herself up against the overseer. She blinked, her eyes focusing upon her shoulder, wet and red with blood. As she traced along the path of her arm, the girl found she could not find the rest of it, for the rest was buried within the overseer's stomach.

She glanced up. Within the beady eyes of her once superior, only the barest glimmer of life remained. A strong jaw then ejected fluid, a concoction of all bodily humors that fell upon Ovosh's workers shirt.

The girl let out a sharp exhale. Her heartbeat had become all too noticeable, and beat as a loud drum in her ear. In desperation, she braced her free arm against the torso of the overseer, now threatening to fall over her. She strained, throwing back her head as the embedded limb was slowly dragged out of the corpse.

Soon, the fleshy hold was released, and Ovosh fell upon her back, sliding back of what little ground remained unmolested by heat and debris. Much like the collapse of a great column, the overseer feel forward, burying his face with a loud crunch upon the surface below. It was the last his body moved.

A bloody hand was brought to her face. But blood was not the only bodily material adhering to it. As fresh flesh dropped to the ground, Ovosh could only quiver.

"No, no . . ." She said to no one, "I took his life, why did-?"

Her heart was stopped cold, for the realization she suffered had inflicted even greater damage than the overseer ever could. But now, there lay only the smoldering ruins of the generator, and two bodies that still had blood to give.

"Why did I do that?" she whispered. Her eyes darted, fixating on Kei's sprawled form behind her.

A desperate plea echoed within steel walls, "Kei!"

Her call was in vain, and he remained as motionless as the overseer. She repeated her cry out to him, yet no answers from the hollow corpse could be discerned. Upon her blood-crusted, swollen face, Ovosh could feel moisture pooling within her eyes. Sight had become murky as this liquid trickled down her cheeks, and on to the floor.

"Why?" Ovosh repeated, choking through her tears. The phrase was repeated, but no one was there to hear it. Rustling debris, flickering flames and the rhythmic churning of a now defective generator carried on indifferently to the mournful soul.

Part of the ceiling gave way, breaking the empty silence. Chalk-white debris disintegrated, allowing a stream of light to illuminate the room. Through the opening, Ovosh could barely observe a ship.

It was bathed in white-blue light. Only a blurry silhouette could be observed. Sharp pain shot through her eyes as they adjusted, yet her vision remained fixed. The shadow pulsated and moved. A new mechanical whirring could be isolated within the texture of ambiance.

A compartment on the undercarriage had opened up upon the newly arrived vessel. From it, a figure emerged. He had begun to descend, remaining affixed to the ship above by a thin black wire. The shadow he cast was lanky; clearly a less built man than Kei.

As he was lowered past the unrelenting light, it became clear he was no agent of the Empire . A dark blue jacket hung over a thick dark brown shirt. It ended near the man's shins, easily exposing pale, dirt stained tan pants and knee-high black boots.

Much like Kei, his hair was arranged in an unconventional configuration. Instead of sharp jagged crimson spikes, the man's mane was a shade of brown away from black, and it poofed away from his head in an impressive volume.

The contours of light revealed a face more aged than the deceased young warrior. Dark eyes revealed, yet also obscured stories of multiple lifetimes, each more unpleasant than the last. Hollow cheeks and a sharp chin rounded off a rugged, yet mischievous face.

Desperation clung to him, far tighter than his jacked which billowed out with every step, as he made his way to Kei's fallen form. Crouching down, he began shaking the body, appearing to disregard the suffocating pool of red the corpse was surrounded by.

"Kei, Kei!" he shouted, in vain, "C'mon kid, Reitoko said that you had ta come back alive! Don't do this to me! Not here."

Even with a different individual, a similar action yielded a similar result. Unlike Ovosh, only one such attempt was required to reach the same, morbid conclusion. He bowed his head down, his hair obscuring his eyes. He stayed there for but a moment, before moving his right hand over Kei's.

"You did well, kid. Rest easy."

His attentions were turned to the girl. In a voice that sounded as if it were clogged with sewage and sandpaper, he asked, "So, you're the person he died for?"

Upon witnessing the girl's reaction, his posture relaxed. Eyes that once lay in the shadow of his hair were now visible, and their gaze was soft, and even sympathetic. Placing his hands in his coat pockets, he acknowledged, "We knew the risks coming in here. It was a risk we were comfortable taking. It looks like Kei went all in. He lost."

Ovosh looked down feeling the weight of something incomprehensible weighing down upon her. She felt her legs gave way, and could only brace her tenuous balance upon her knees. Heavy air slowly entered and exited her lungs, and her vision had begun to throw the world out of alignment. Muscles and bones, which a few moments earlier, were aflame with newfound power, now strained and creaked with pain, rendering her immobile.

"I'd like to bring you back, but as my leader specified, you gotta to be committed to the cause," he claimed, his hands were now shuffling in his pockets, clearly searching for something.

"I don't know if the kid already made an offer to you, but just in case . . ."

He pulled the object he was searching for out of his pocket, fully displaying it to Ovosh, whose eyes widened. The object itself was unimpressive, a small kernel that was light gray in color. She recognized it as the very seed that had given her strength not a moment ago.

"If you want to die a citizen of the Empire," the man continued, "That's outta my hands, but I'll tell you, they're not gonna like that you've killed one of their lackeys."

A small smile crept across thin lips, "Yeah, I can see your handiwork. Pretty impressive I might add."

Ovosh could only slowly nod in response. Yet she would sooner nod off to sleep, than consciously agree to such a statement.

"If you wanna live, then take this bean I'm holding out here. It's of the senzu variety, and it'll give you a clear path out of the woods. But, as it is, whether you want to survive or die, it's your choice."

Her eyes rose upon hearing the peculiar word once more, a word that Kei had almost repeated as something from an ancient scripture. The heart that had stopped cold began to pulse once more, and the raging inferno within that had once raged, now had returned as a small flicker.

Before her, 18 years of servitude to the Galactic Terran Empire played out. She could still behold the smooth, gray bean seated within the palm of the man's hand. It was the only object worth noticing, for there was nothing of note in her life. None of the events she recalled elicited shame, nor pride, nor pain, nor anger. It was only upon this exact day she could experience such a sensation.

If she were to die, it would be today that she would lose.

Her hand struggled to reach its destination. It quivered and faltered; sapped of her strength, she almost didn't reach it.

But at last, her hand grasped the pill. She then said the words that ultimately decided her fate.

" _I want to live_."

As Ovosh consumed the bean, she could see the man smiling. A familiar surge of strength flowed through her, reconstituting her tired body.

"You chose, wisely."

He lifted her exhausted body up, one arm under her knees, and one arm supporting her back. The hand that once held the senzu bean flipped a sort of switch upon his belt. The thin black wire he had been attached too grew taut.

They began ascending, lifting up to the heavens, and to the beginning of a new life.


	2. Dash for the Gates

The light cleared as two figures were lifted into the ship. Ovosh could make out the interior a lot better than when she was on the factory ground. It appeared cramped, bulky, and quite cluttered. It was a far cry from the sleek, elegance and uniformity of the Empire.

This departure from convention shook every cell in her body. Ovosh breathed in a new kind of air, and at times, she felt as if she would choke. Yet, there was something else about the ship that calmed her, another force that drew her in, along with the hydraulic lift she traveled.

The lift halted, as both her and her rescuer were completely engulfed by the ship's interior. The man released the clip from his harness. Ovosh steadied herself on her feet, surprised she could stand. She then remembered the strange pill she had consumed, the senzu bean. It appeared it had restored the strength she had previously lost in the catastrophe. The weariness, the darkness, all all else that ailed her had been banished. Her eyes then veered to her collar, below her shoulder, where the overseer had wounded her. Ovosh gasped in surprise, for while there was a hole in her gray worker's uniform, flesh lay visible beneath, full and healthy. No gaping hole where her entrails were visible was present.

The entrance to the ship hissed shut. The man had moved over to a control panel close to the opening. Ovosh assumed this panel held the means to accomplish this. Upon further observation, the panel was much like the interior of the ship itself, clunky, yet inviting. Large dials, knobs, switches and levers occupied it, forming a scheme that had no rhyme or reason. Dirt and wear most ardently left their mark upon them.

Her rescuer looked up, finished with whatever he was doing. "Alright kid, follow me to the cockpit, we're not out of the woods yet."

He gestured to her, which Ovosh recognized as a signal for her to follow. _He already told me of this, nothing else is neccessary_. She dutifully followed him through the various doors and passageways of the craft. The rooms resembled the load dock area, clunky and cramped. In one room, there were several bottles filled with liquids of various amber shades. Some were without caps; the amount of liquid was lower than some of the ones with caps.

Ovosh would only get a brief glance, as they finally arrived to the cockpit. Never in her life, had Ovosh seen so many buttons, knobs, and levers compressed in one room. The walls, the wide-bulky control panel at the front of the cockpit, the ceiling, all were covered in some sort of technology that assisted with the operation of the ship. Only the windows, which gave a clear wide view of the cityscape sprawled before them, were not touched.

"Take a seat," said the man, already seated himself. He began going to work, pushing buttons, twisting knobs, and pulling levers in a chaotic frenzy, far different than any routine Ovosh had observed in her lifetime. There were two seats in the room, leaving Ovosh the right-most sea. It was colored a faded red. Ontop sat an oversized head rest. As she adjusted for comfort, the girl noted the peeling fabric sending flecks onto the rusted brown, metallic floor.

"Don't forget to buckle your seatbelt, things are about to get interesting," he suggested, not even making an effort to make eye contact with her.

"I do not know the context in which you define 'interesting'" Ovosh noted, clear anxiety seeping into her voice.

Finally, the man turned to look in her direction. One of his eyebrows was raised, causing Ovosh to avert her eyes. "'Interesting as in we're probably meeting our maker today."

As he turned away, he did mention, "The name's Percy by the way, I figure it's fair that you know my name, Ovosh."

His attention was immediately diverted, as he grabbed an object upon the wall nearest to him. A dark gray cord spiraled out the end, . There was small grates on one of the wide surfaces on this object, indicating it was a communicator of some sort. Percy began barking orders into the communicator with a tone sharper and harsher than Ovosh ever heard.

"Boy! Get those engines fired up! Unless you want the Empire to catch us!"

Deep within the bowels of the ship, large pipes and clunky machinery were the walls of the room that was occupied by one lone youth. He held a strange device in his right hand, as he tampered with a large bottle-shaped object, sending percussive clanks throughout the room.

Large goggles were adorned over his striking golden eyes. He rubbed his free forearm across his moist brow, hidden behind layers of messy golden-brown hair. His mechanics suit was a few sizes too big for him, and the blue overalls and brown shirt were clearly a few years old. Hearing Percy's low, growling sharp voice through the ship's communicator, the young man leapt from his seated position, and began messing around with the various knobs and levers attached to a control panel slapped on top of the machinery. The engines gave an approving roar in response to the boy's actions.

A higher-pitched, more youthful, yet clearly male voice responded through the speaker, filtered by electronic noise, "I'm already on it capt'n, her thrusters are all yours."

An alarm began sounding, distinct from all the others that usually would go off within the city. Percy cursed as he brushed a hand through his poofy excuse for hair. He looked at one of the main consol screens, a radar. The green-lined display showed four red dots in tight formation headed towards the center.

"We've got company," he stated, then placed his hand on one of the large levers, located in-between his seat and Ovosh's. Ovosh herself was fumbling with the seatbelt, attempting to adjust to the differences from the standardized seatbelts of the Empire. After some effort, a distinctive click indicated her efforts had paid off.

Observing his new copilot secure in her seat, Percy moved the lever forwards, evoking the rumble of engines hard at work. The large bulky freighter shot forward, lifting off from the utilitarian canvas of the city, away from the small wreck of the factory.

Several kilometers away, four soldiers flew in formation, closing on the ship. The soldier in front of the pack had specialized markings, signifying him as a squad leader. With a combination of non-verbal signals, the four Imperial soldiers increased their speed, just as the freighter was blasting off. Their speed, however, was not sufficient enough as of yet to gain any distance on the now ascending ship.

Ovosh could feel her body being pressed to the seat as the freighter accelerated. The sky had begun to darken. Stars that had been hidden from her for so long were now beginning to become visible. Her eyes began to widen, for she could observe thousands of brilliant plasma orbs from such a great distance as they were burning away for billions upon billions of years. Such a vast portion of the galaxy was now visible to her, and it had been revealed to her all at once.

Once overcast and gray, now the sky was pitch black. The bulky spacecraft had ventured into the void where no precious air existed. Down below, the metallic-gray surface of Vega IV dominated the view. Atmospheric air was illuminated by the distant blue star, creating a soft haze upon the horizon. And, nearly blending in with the planet's background, the Imperial pursuit continued to ascend.

As the freigter cleared the last layer of visible atmosphere, the squad leader of the four Imperial soldiers messaged back home to base, his tone more fit for a computer than a man. "Target has cleared the planet's atmosphere. Projected course, Vega jump node. Distance to projected destination, 100 kilometers. Please advise."

An equally emotionless and flat voice responded over the communicator within the soldier's helmet, "Engagement of hostile craft authorized. Termination of hostile craft authorized."

"Order confirmed," stated the squad leader, holding out his right arm in front of his featureless helmet. With this, he typed in a few sequences on a key pad attached to his wrist. A small suction noise could be heard, as his uniform began sealing itself to protect his body from the hostile conditions of space. The other soldiers in his squad did the same. The squad leader then began his non-verbal gestures once more. There was silent confirmation from the other four. They all accelerated, now rapidly closing upon the fleeing spacecraft.

There was a flicker in Percy's eyes as he observed the radar. "So," he breathed, as he watched the red dots begin to eat up the distance between them and his ship like no other, "they've finally started to play."

Ovosh took her eyes off of the sea of stars to stare back at Percy as he began rummaging through the gauntlet of knobs and buttons crowding the dashboard. "What's happening?" she asked.

"It’s about to get fun," Percy answered, as he once again grabbed his communicator.

"Alright boy!" he shouted, "we're about to be taking on some heavy fire! I want those shields up pronto!"

"You know, I have a radar down here Perc, you don't need to tell me to raise the shields!" responded the boy, clearly flustered. He began keying sequences on the control panel, fingers rapidly flying in a blur. The other hand was turning various knobs, requiring a fully stretched arm to compensate.

"I don't leave anything to chance boy!" Percy declared into the communicator, he then looked up, as if to visually reexamine his claim.

" _Except in cards_ ," escaped a murmur beneath his breath. He then raised his voice once more as he barked, "Just get on those shields!"

The report located on the visor of the helmet indicated that the squad was now five thousand meters from their target. "Optimal firing range reached," he reported to his comrades through the helmet's communicator. All four simultaneously raised their right arm angling it towards their target. Each of their hands were fully extended, fingers together. It was as if they were signaling the assailant to stop. Complete annihilation, however, would satisfy their demands.

Bright yellow energy formed, suspended in front of their hands. The intensity of the energy grew as the orbs of energy expanded. After the appropriate amount of time to charge their attacks, the squad leader yelled, "Fire!" which sent these highly condensed packets of energy streaking towards their target.

Another alarm sounded within the ship. Perc, and Ovosh could observe smaller, yet faster red dots headed their way as represented by the radar. Percy looked desperately at Ovosh, "Brace for impact kid!" he ordered.

The attacks met their mark, and detonated, consuming the bulky freighter in a brilliant yellow flash. The yellow inferno gave way to black smoke filling up the space the yellow light show had occupied. This smoke then cleared quickly, as a result of the reduced pressure of space, revealing the target intact.

A glowing, translucent energy field enveloped the backside of the ship. This energy rippled, before dissipating itself across a spherical plane. Observing this, the squad leader notified his subordinates through the built-in communicator, "Be advised, the hostile freighter possesses type-A deflectors, switch to barrages to wear down their shielding. Concentrate your fire on one quadrant for maximum effect."

The other soldiers nodded, confirming their superior's orders. The four then extended both of their arms out, in the same formation as before. Yellow orbs began forming in front of their limbs once more. But, instead of a single blast from each of them, numerous quainter bolts spewed forth. Their combined attacks formed a volatile curtain of explosions that rocked the ship. Transparent energy flashes displayed where the bolts made impact.

Within the ship, the situation was no less volatile. Percy was shouting unspeakable banalities as the turbulent nature of the flight began tossing both his and Ovosh's bodies in their seats. The occupant in the engine room of the freighter had it even worse, as neither he, nor any of his tools were secured. He began screaming and shouting unintelligible gibberish as he tried to keep his tools, and himself in the same relative area without suffering too many injuries.

"We're taking too much fire!" Percy shouted, although Ovosh could not divine as to whom he was shouting to. He picked up the communicator as his other hand was dancing across the controls, swinging and swerving the bulky contraption though the maze of flashing energy and bright explosions. "Damn," he exclaimed, then began barking into his communicator again, "keep those shields steady, unless you want to be floating back to Vega Four, boy!"

An indicator on the front control panel caught Ovosh’s wildly divided attentions. She beheld what appeared to be a top-down diagram of the freighter. This diagram lay surrounded by an elliptical outline divided into four quadrants. Three of these quadrants were bright, solid, and green upon the display. By contrast, the quadrant adjacent to the rear was red, dull and flashing.

Percy's hands began fiddling with everything and anything that would allow them to last just a bit longer. Ovosh felt herself sinking in her chair. Raising her arms, she covered her ears from the chaotic sensory assault. She desired nothing more than now that her subconscious was plaguing her, and moments later, she would be reporting to a conditioning ward to have her psyche examined and realigned.

Percy's eyes darted around, to the view outside his cockpit, to the various displays on his HUD. _This trip is going to be real short ... unless_. There was something that caught his eyes. Rocky formations that had become much larger as the ship had sped away from Vega Four. If he could recall, the planet was surrounded by a substantial ring system. From his view, up close, the debris forming the rings didn't look too tightly packed. But there were substantial chunks, and enough of them to serve his purposes. He grinned, as he steered the ship, on a direct course for the field.

"Wait," he heard from the engine room, via the speaker, "You're not doing what I think you're doing?"

"And what are you thinking, genius?" snarled Percy, rather playfully into the handheld communicator, as he maneuvered the ship through the hellzone that the Imperial soldiers had created for them.

"You want to navigate _through_ the planets rings, right?" the nervous mechanic predicted.

"Bingo," Percy quipped nonchalantly, glancing at Ovosh's nervous face, as she huddled out of fear in the ragged chair of the co-pilot's seat.

" _Do you even know the odds of us surviving that?_ " squeaked the voice through the speakers.

"Yes, and they're higher than if we're just floating out around here," Percy shot back, then hung up the communicator, lamenting rather sarcastically to the shivering Ovosh, "Don't listen to him kid. We're having fun, right?"

Ovosh did not respond, except for a quick flicker of her eyes. Percy could also detect a bit of a glare as her brown eyes met his own. "Well, suit yourself," he said, as he pushed a lever forward, propelling the freighter into the depths of the rocky field of the Vega Four's rings.

The rocks were not motionless. They were earthen brown in color, though some would display a hint of metallic blue, all due to the Vega star. The dulled, rust brown metal of the freighter showed little shine as it bucked and swerved, avoiding energy blasts and space debris. The barrage did lighten, as some of the rocks did provide some form of cover for the bulky ship. Smaller, pebble-sized chunks, comparatively speaking, bounced off the energy shield of the freighter. The energy rippled and glowed little, demonstrating that the kinetic force the rocks inflicted, inflicted minimal damage.

The imperial soldiers had slightly more difficulty navigating through the asteroid field. Despite possessing a smaller bodies and masses to maneuver with, their standardized move-set was simply not as effective as the artistic maneuvering of Percy's ship. The rocks threw off the aim of some of the soldiers as they sped through the field. After the freighter dodged an especially fast and large rock, the rear most soldier in the formation was hit by that same chunk, sending him veering off-course. This stalled the rest of the squadron, and halted their fire, as they waited for the lone soldier to join back in formation.

With a break in the Imperial assault, Ovosh looked back to the status of the shields. The rear quadrant had now begun to solidify, and was transitioning through the color spectrum back to a solid green.

Not everything had turned sunny for the crew of the valiant ship. Percy grimaced as the ship impacted a particularly large rock. This sent the appropriate shocks through the ship, sending the mechanic in the engine room off of his seat, and unnerving Ovosh even more. As he tried to steer the ship back on course, Percy checked his radar once more. The red dots were moving away from the middle, as the distance between him and the soldiers grew. _Good, the more the merrier. Those soldiers can close the gap pretty quick, however._

"Stay on alert!" shouted a desperate voice, as Percy swerved the ship to avoid another large rock. Ovosh was the origin of the voice, and she kept repeating this phrase, pointing to several different chunks that had a relatively good chance to impact the freighter. This peeved Percy to his breaking point, boiling over when he snapped, "CAN IT!" effectively silencing the girl, leaving her huddled in her seat again.

An alarm sounded once more. Percy looked to the radar, realizing he had been distracted. The red dots were now approaching rapidly, finding a path that effectively flanked the ship's current bearings. Mentally cursing, Percy hazarded a guess that his path had been so non-linear through the ring field that the soldiers, with their comparatively smaller bodies, must have found a more direct route to their target.

"Port side deflectors, at max!" Percy demanded, as an intense barrage of golden energy cascaded over the ship, furiously dancing over the energy shield. In some areas, the barrier could not hold. The freed Ki energy impacted the ship, blowing away small metal chunks, igniting the surface. Deep in the engine room, the mechanic panicked, "They hit lateral control!"

"Don't worry, she'll hold together," Percy attempted to reassure. And, to reassure himself, he requested, "C'mon baby, hold together," (Author's note: Not a jojo reference)

White steam began pouring into the cockpit, the source was through a crack in the ceiling. Ovosh averted her head, giving out a small shout of surprise, while Percy nonchalantly keyed in a couple of button presses on the ceiling, effectively stopping the flow of condensed gasses.

Ovosh blew out a stream of air, as a sign of relief, despite the fact that she had no working knowledge of what the gas was. Still, she could deduce that their freighter was not in an optimal state. The soldiers had flown away, and were not currently firing at the freighter. Still, there was a part of her that dreaded the second pass of the imperials. She wondered if death, which she had seemingly avoided this day time after time, would finally catch up to her.

The thought of death would not have been considered fun, but this put a smile on Percy's face. He turned to Ovosh, his confidence flaring through. Her quivering began to subside, as she stared back at him, rather confused at his apparent happiness at their current situation.

"I'm done running, at least for now," Percy confided with her, "Those bastards are going to keep us in this system for as long as they're alive."

"What do you mean by that?" Ovosh asked, thought part of her knew the answer.

"Their second pass-through, once they fire at us, we'll fire back," he answered, and without missing a beat, he unhooked the communicator. His voice resonated with an unusual calmness, much as a still glass of water in an earthquake, when he spoke into it.

"Alright kid, we're taking the Imps out, direct power to the weapons, and prepare for attack speed."

"You're going to _attack_ them?" The mechanic questioned through the speakers. The captain curled in response to the boy’s lack of faith in him and shot back, "You have any better ideas, _genius_?" This comeback was enough the silence the nosy mechanic, as he began recalibrating the ship's power.

The freighter itself went through a visible change as it began to swerve around. A compartment, located right beneath the cockpit, began to open up, revealing a rather large barrel fastened to mechanical supports, which now moved to present the weapon. Also visible were two metal prongs, flanking this cannon, one on its left and one on its right.

The pilot licked his lips, as a control stick he had taken a hold of to his right revealed a red trigger where his index finger now rested. But Percy didn't act just yet. He once more turned to Ovosh.

"Alright kid, I need a favor from you. This needs to get done rather quickly, because our Imperial friends are gearing up for another attack, and my guess is, they're going to put a bit more juice into this one than the last."

"A favor?" Ovosh questioned, turning her head to face her wild-haired copilot. "I am ... unfamiliar with the term. Could you mean, that you require some ..."

"... service! My God kid, the Imps really did a number on you, did they?" Percy finished for her, clearly frustrated. "There is a round bottle of liquid, it's called HFIL's nectar. I have no idea in hell what the syllables HFIL stands for, but that doesn't matter. This bottle is located on the top cupboard, third from your left."

After pausing for a bit, he asked, "you know what a cupboard is, right?"

Ovosh looked back, her expression resuming a regulated neutral state, the expression she had held ever since she was taught, as she replied back, "I believe I can identify."

"Well good, now you know what to do," Percy said, smiling as he laid back in his seat, "And make it snappy."

Ovosh followed his commands to the letter as she dashed out of her rickety seat, remembering to unbuckle herself first. She skidded through the entrance to the cockpit into the room before it, and located what she assumed was the top cupboard. Manually counting as quickly as she could, she opened the third door from the left, and saw what Percy had described.

The object of interest was a rather large, rounded vial of liquid, just as specified. Ovosh could make out the letters "HFIL" inscribed upon it. Yet, she silently dismissed the ability of those responsible for labeling the bottle, as they were not using a standardized font, thereby limiting Ovosh's initial comprehension. No matter, she climbed onto the counter below, and retrieved it without incident. An efficient task accomplished, as she did not anticipate much time had passed.

The engineer boy had meanwhile kept a nervous golden eye on a monitor, apparently surveying the area. Perspiration, on an already moist brow, began to flow. Panicking, he snatched his communicator to alert Percy of what he had saw.

"Perc! They're giving us the turtle wave! Our shields won't be able to repel an attack of that magnitude in its current state!"

In the cockpit, Percy simply held a finger of silence to the speaker.

Ovosh emerged, bringing the vial of liquid with her. "You might have just saved our skins," Percy exclaimed, with a big smile on his face, as he accepted the bottle from Ovosh's outstretched hands. He unscrewed off the top, and downed some of the amber liquid. He shook his head as the liquid passed through.

"What was the purpose of that liquid?" Ovosh inquired. "Is it a battle stimulant? I've never been informed of any taken through ingestion."

Percy shook his head, even as he maintained a frighteningly wide grin, "Well, you're kind of right. It does help me during battle. You know what? Here."

He held out the bottle to Ovosh, with the cap still unscrewed. "You'll probably need some. Anyways, I heard from one of my buddies in the olden days that they brew a special rum in hell for people who waste good scotch."

Ovosh possessed no comprehension of his explanation, and therefore, took the man by his word. Percy began dialing in several combinations in his massive array of controls, presumably to power up the weapon the ship had presented to their adversaries.

Their adversaries, meanwhile, possessed an unimpeded view of their target, able to observe that the runaway freighter possessed a weapon of its own. The commander halted his subordinates, giving new visual commands. His soldiers nodded in response, and assumed new stances, mimicking his, pulling back their arms, and cupping them.

" _Kame-_ " began their unison incantation, with intense, yet emotionless voices, as blue orbs of ki began to gather in each of their cupped hands.

" _Hame-_ "

Percy meanwhile was finishing up the protocols for his attack, as an energy orb began forming in front of the barrel, purple in color, surrounded by cackles of electricity. He scanned the area in front of him with his eyes, making out the four faint, but distinct blue energy orbs. The orbs suddenly puffed up in size, a sign that they were ready to unleash their attack. Smiling, he thumbed the trigger to his weapon, as he was ready too.

" _HA!_ "

And with that shout, the soldiers launched their hands forward, sending the blue energy streaming towards the hapless freighter. From the size and intensity of these beams, they were clearly the most powerful attacks that they had launched at their target.

But Percy had a retort, as he squeezed the trigger, and unleashed a powerful purple beam, which was covered in electrical cackles. Both attacks quickly converged on each other, their clash illuminating the asteroid field in brilliant displays of blue and purple. It was clear from the onset, that the combined might of the soldiers would prevail, as the blue beam began advancing, forcing the freighter’s firepower to recede.

Ovosh could observed the brilliant convergence close upon the ship from the window. She was forced to squint, for her eyes were dominated by the bright lights. The freighter began to rumble from the awesome power in conflict, power that Ovosh could feel within her very bones. She looked to Percy, who was visibly sweating, with a strained expression on his face, as if his will was keeping their attack from losing any more ground than it was.

The poofy-haired man reached for the communicator once more, his fingers frantically dancing across it as he struggled to maintain a steady grip. Once secured, his next orders were nearly spat into the speaker, "Overload the cannon boy! We're going to be dust at this rate!"

Instead of a frightened retort or doubtful objection, nothing was said. For a minute, the captain appeared shaken, his olive skin losing a tone or two of color. A sharp breath of relief was released, as vitals aboard his ship indicated that his gun had a lot more power at its disposal. With another smile, he murmured, "God bless you Victor," as he clutched the central joystick with newfound confidence.

With a press off the trigger, the purple beam expanded, trembling with the new ferocious energy that had been injected. Now the freighter's attack began to push back the blue beams from the imperial soldiers. There were no visible signs of panic as the soldiers began realizing they were on the losing side of the battle. Instead, there was more visible effort put into their attacks, intending to starve off the coagulation of opposing forces as it closed in on them. But their efforts were to no avail, as the more powerful attack kept on its inevitable march towards the imperial soldiers.

They were consumed by the incandescent chaos, swallowed up one by one in a flash of light. And they met their fate when the flurry of energy detonated, its brilliance filling up the asteroid field. It was as if a miniature star had formed within the planets rings. Ovosh had to shield her eyes from this blinding sight, as the explosion dominated the ship's view-port.

The light began to fade, as the miniature supernova shrunk back to its point of origin. In the space filled by the catastrophe, there was nothing but dust. No signs of their pursuers' existence were apparent from the ships viewpoint, nor from the various instruments aboard the cockpit.

It took a few moments after everything had settled in the vacuum of space for Ovosh to realize the truth about her situation, to realize the absolute horror of what had just occurred. "The soldiers are dead," she flatly stated.

All her life had she looked to them, the faceless protectors of their Empire. Every day she had lent her support to them, to crush all who threatened the security of the Empire. Now, she had witnessed the death of these protectors.

She shrunk back in her seat, "I killed them," she breathed out. The bottle of unknown liquid was clutched close to her chest, as if cold glass would provide any comfort.

"No, " Percy corrected, giving the girl a quizzical look as her face took upon the look of horror, " _We_ killed them."

Upon observing that this sentiment didn't improve Ovosh's spirits, he continued to elaborate, "If we didn't kill them, they would have killed us. But that's war for you, kid." Upon saying this, did his normally gruff and harsh tone soften. Instead of burning snark and scalding sarcasm, it was filled with caring warmth, and weariness.

It seemed the girl did settle down, even just a bit. Percy gave her a smile, the first one not tainted with battle-lust in a good while. She did not return his smile, but did seem to perk up a bit. "It is true, isn't it?" she asked, though it was not clear if she had directed the question to Percy, or no one in particular.

Percy shook his head in confusion, "what's true? I don't get it."

Ovosh bowed down, before finally turning to face the pilot, a most serious expression upon her face. Her brown eyes seemed to burn with intensity. "I am now an enemy of the Galactic Terran Empire."

Percy settled back into his seat, flipping some controls in order to prepare the ship for their final escape. "Well, the journey doesn't end here. Get used to seeing the impossible kid. Otherwise, you'll go insane."

Without another word, the ship moved forward, out of the planet's rings, and away from the world Ovosh had known her entire life. Now it was a simple background, pasted against the canvas of stars which held other worlds. Worlds that now, their clunky freighter was now headed to.

"How you holding up boy?" Percy asked into his communicator, his snide and sarcasm returning to his voice.

"Just wonderful," he replied. He was clearly not amused. HIs quarters were filled with smoke, smoldering metal, and broken controls.

"Overloading the cannons did a real number on the ship's reactor. We're quite fortunate we can still enter subspace. I do suggest we avoid the scenic route back to Capella, I don't want any more mileage than necessary on our reactor."

"Oh Victor, " Percy chuckled, "You're such a bore." Before the boy named Victor could put in a retort, Percy blasted off to maximum speed, following the guidance of the consoles on his ship.

Serene calm was immediately broken with the blaring of alarms. The radar, which had just previously been blank, now hosted several new hostile blimps upon its green-tinted screen. They numbered in the hundreds, _and if I see hundreds here, our opposition is in the thousands_.

The captain grasped the communicator, "Kid, prep the subspace device, we're one click away from the jump node."

Victor keyed in the combinations to accommodate his Percy's orders. Looking towards the front of the ship, he witnessed the device that would be the means to their escape. It lay as a log on the ground, but with many mobile parts, that now rotated, forming a blue field around it.

Outside, a blue flash appeared in front of the ship. This flash evolved into a shimmering glow, a fully functional portal. The wavelengths of this portal gave the appearance of a disturbance in water. The freighter accelerated, hurling itself towards this portal, until it made contact. The portal gave the impression that it was swallowing the ship in. Once fully inside, the portal closed, sealing itself with the same brilliant flash of blue.


	3. Descent to Sanctuary

They were not in space anymore.

No longer could Ovosh see the pitch black blanket dotted with the billions upon billions of burning gas giants and the faint cloud of galaxy arms. Now, out of the freighter's window, her sight was dominated by a phenomenon she had not witnessed her entire life.

A blue vortex extended out to infinity in front of the ship. It shimmered like that of water, but the azure energy danced and swirled unlike that of any liquid substance. A shimmering white glow near the center of the viewpoint appeared to mark the end of the passageway.

Percy observed Ovosh's baffled face with much interest. His voice upon inquiry, however, sounded more deadpan than anything, "You're first time being in subspace, I take it?"

Ovosh turned her head to face him, "This is subspace?" she inquired.

Percy let out a chuckle, "Yup, and by the time the GTE can scramble a vessel that can enter our little wormhole, we'll be far gone."

The girl leaned back in her red rickety seat. Subspace. Ovosh would often hear the reports of transports that had to transverse it to ship out raw materials from Vega IV to other systems of the Galactic Terran Empire. Now, the sea in the space between spaces she witnessed with her very eyes defined this word, subspace.

An interconnected network of wormholes that has united our Empire since its infancy. It was the Empire that discovered and exploited the advantages of subspace first. I see it is no longer unique in that aspect. Perhaps its appropriate, these wormholes existed long before the Empire.

And they will continue on … long after it expires.

Her stream of thoughts were interrupted by a series of button presses and lever switches Percy had initiated. Percy himself then laid back in his seat, his arms stretched out, with his hands providing another cushion for his head to rest on. His head swiveled lazily to face Ovosh.

"Alright champion, I've put us on autopilot. We should be reaching the Capella system in a couple of hours. Now, I'm going to head on back. My seat smells like sweat and crap, not to mention it has terrible lumbar support. Oh and..." Percy paused, giving a rather predatory look to the vessel of liquid Ovosh was currently unconsciously clutching. "Bring good ol' HFIL back here". He raised his fisted hand, directing the general direction where Ovosh would place the liquid with his thumb.

The captain then rose from his seat and lazily sauntered though the back door to the ship lounge. Ovosh decided to follow suit, managing to undo her seatbelt with more ease than she had entered. Her efforts resulted in some of the liquid in the thick glass bottle sloshing about, and some of the substance dribbled down her hand. Ovosh raised her eyebrow as this occurred, for she felt a slight burning sensation, and thus, quickly wiped away the rest of the offending liquid with her free hand.

By that time, Percy had disappeared through the cockpit entrace. For a second, Ovosh hesitated, before finally freeing herself from the confines of the decrepit chair. Red flaked fell off as she exited, and there was a distinctive creek as the chair was relieved of her weight; a detail that, for some reason, offended her so.

As she passed through the rather compact entrance, into the lounge, she could immediately detect a third individual within her presence. She suspected this was the person Percy was yelling at during their escape from the Vega system. Ovosh could feel the grip on the bottle of scotch loosen when she caught sight of the individual. Becomming acutely aware of this, she quickly set it down on the edge of the counter, the heavy glass making a low thump as it settled on the surface.

The mechanic leaned against the side table, fresh with sweat and oil stains. His hair was unregulated and messy, forming a formidable mane that stopped at the base of his neck and hanging down over his ears and covering his forehead. It was colored messy shade of gold. His eyes were gold as well, and glowed with youthful vitality that only Kei could match. He was currently clutching what looked like a pair of heavy duty goggles in his right hand. His mechanics suit, sporting a clearly non-standardized design, had its sleeves rolled up, revealing fair, yet tanned skin. He was noticeably a lesser physical specimen than Kei, while his arms possessed some definition, they lacked the mass and size indicative of physical prowess.

She remained paralyzed after examining him. For some unexplained reason, observing him gave Ovosh similar emotions to the ones she had watching the Vega Star rise every day.

This boy, however, wasn't paying attention to her. He was currently addressing Percy.

"We're going into Capella fully visible Perc," he explained, "that little stunt you pulled back there with the cannon means if we want to keep moving, we shouldn't engage our cloak..."

He was interrupted, but not by another speaker, for silence filled the room as he now paused. His eyes darted around. They lingered for just a second on Ovosh, before moving on. Shock and fright took hold of them, as he uttered, "Where's Kei?"

Ovosh knew the answer. She could see the lifeless body soaked in its own blood. Percy opened his mouth to answer, his expression suddenly somber, but Ovosh, for once, cut him off.

"Kei has been terminated," Ovosh explained. Her voice did not carry any inflection, similar to how she usually conversed in her old life within the Empire. But, at the same time, it was different, for sorrow, instead of cold logic held her hostage at this moment.

"His life was given in defense of mine." Ovosh continued, as the words began to pour out of her, "I am the reason he is not with us now. I ..."

She was at a loss of what to say. A growing pit could be felt in her gut, but she was sure her body did not sustain that sort of injury during their ship's escape. For now, all she could do was stare blankly as Victor processed what she had to say.

The boy's head was down, similar to the way Percy's was when he discovered Kei's demise. For a second, he remained that way. Percy, usually jovial in stressful times, seemed unsure of what to do, as he attempted to reassure, "Hey, kid..."

His head shot up, staring straight into Ovosh's eyes, golden irises threatening to burn away dark brown. They were watery, similar to how Ovosh's eyes were when her own death seemed imminent. His voice carried but a whisper, "How did he die?"

Ovosh swallowed, and with that, was finally able to find words to say again. "My overseer shot him from behind with an energy beam. The fault was mine. I had distracted him from my - the overseer."

The boy's eyes were filled with a new emotion, a familiar one, rage. She could see shades of red creep in to the whites. She could see his face contort into frightening forms as rage took hold of him. His voice, a whisper a moment ago, was now an enraged shout. "WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE HIM?"

Ovosh was taken aback by his accusation, and took a few steps back, as the angry boy awaited her explanation. An exasperated expression overcame Percy's face as he attempted to calm Victor down.

"C'mon Vic, don't be that way," Percy said, his voice a lot calmer than what he usually would be when talking to the mechanic, "She barely knows anything about fighting, now how would she exactly do that?"

"Oh yeah?" Victor asked, turning his glare to Percy. Pointing at Ovosh rather aggressively, he pressed on, "THEN HOW THE HELL DID SHE GET THE OVERSEER OUT OF THE PICTURE? "

There was a pause. Percy was out of words to say, at least for the moment. The silence didn't last.

"I killed him," Ovosh stated, frightened at how easily the statement rolled off her tongue. Another moment of silence permeated. He was still glaring straight into Ovosh's eyes. Victor then softened his gaze, then looked away, as if ashamed. He then promptly left the room, leaving her and Percy to recover from his outburst.

The captain let out a loud exhale, followed by a whistle. "Well, that's Victor, if you didn't know," he said, managing to grin, though there was a clear quiver. "I hope you don't get the wrong impression about him, he's actually a pretty tame kid, at least I think he is."

"I see," was all that Ovosh could comment.

A question had formed upon the tip of her tounge."What is the cause for his manner?" she queried, fully turning to Percy. He leaned against the far-side wall, not fully turned to Ovosh. He brought one of his hands to his face, rubbing his forehead with two of his fingers. He let out another sigh.

"I really mean it when I said Victor's a tame kid," he began to explain, "but, let's just say that he's a bit fragile."

"Fragile?" she exclaimed, the smallest amount of concern tainting her voice, "Is his bone structure lacking proper nutri-"

"No," Percy quickly interrupted, now burying his face in the hand that was previously massaging his temples, "Nothing like that. It's more ... what is it? Mental."

Upon finding a proper term, Percy straightened himself up, and began a much more concise exposition, "You see, Vic over there was really fond of Kei. Really fond. He thought of him as a brother."

Ovosh raised her eyebrows, "Brothers? You mean they are -"

"No," Percy corrected proactively, "They don't have any biological connection or whatever the biologists would tag as being blood-related. But there was a bond, at least for Vic."

"Bond," Ovosh repeated, letting the words roll off her tongue. She blinked, and Percy's hand was in front of her, as if stopping the flow of speech out of her mouth. Ovosh looked past the hand, with a confused look into Percy's eyes. The captain's eyes reflected a sort of somber playfulness, but soon he made his meaning clear.

"I'm sorry kid," he apologized, "I'm sure you've got lots of questions flowing in that noggin of yours. And don't you worry, once we get to Capella we can clear some of that up ... as well as add a gazillion more, but let's not dwell on that part."

Clearing his throat, he continued, "I need to talk to mopey over in his room, but before that, I'll show you to your room. You should catch some shut-eye, we're going to be in subspace for about three hours, and things are bound to get crazy once we exit."

I haven't heard of the name Mopey before. Perhaps he is referring to Victor. She herself desired to head over to wherever he was, and consult him upon his apparent hostile nature towards her. As Percy left her, trotting down the hallway towards the rear of the ship, she felt a burning feeling within her stomach.

Surely, there must have been some way she could have modified the outcome in the power plant? Her mind began running several simulations in which Kei would survive. But a foreboding though seeped into the back of her mind.

I was too weak to save him. She ventured forward, following Percy listlessly, her arms and legs moving on their own. He opened door to her left, mentioning something which she paid no heed to. Her room was compact, a rather appropriate feature considering the freighter wasn't the biggest of ships. The walls and floor of the room were rusty gray, the same metal that the ship was built of. Her sleeping arrangement was a simple bunk off to her right side.

Percy bid his farewell and left Ovosh to her own thoughts. She lay in the bed, heeding the prudent advice he gave her, but her eyes refused to relent. I should not be sleeping. It's critical that I deal with my ineffectiveness.

...

The bushy-haired captain trudged down the hallways of the Iceni. His hand traced upon the dull unimpressive metal which composed the walls, the floor, even the entirety of his ship. Tinted, dulled, and slightly rusted, it served a far cry from the sleek, sterile material the Empire boasted. Such a steel could prove superior, yet the captain trusted no other material but this to bind everything together.

He was now standing in front of a substantial metallic door. This marked the personal room of Victor. If Percy were to bring his hear to the solid entrance, he would hear the low hum of the generator, the rhythmic oscillation of the engines, and the high-pitched whir of the subspace drive. Such proved music to the captain's ears, and for a second, he felt the urge to dance. Hopefully he ain't sleeping again. I like the sounds she makes, but they ain't my lullaby.

Exhaling, in anticipation of what he would find on the other side, Percy politely knocked on the door. When no response was perceived, Percy repeated his polite knock. Instead of waiting for a response, however, he brought a foot up and kicked at the entrance.

Upon the door swinging violently open, he surveyed the room. Various tools were spread out all over the floor, slapped haphazardly in containers, or left on control boards. Peering around the corner, he found Victor's bunk, a hammock attached to two support columns. Immediately upon observing the bed his mechanic had fashioned for himself, Percy could feel his back beginning to ache, if only for a moment.

As expected, Victor was lying on it, a hydrotool dancing around in his hands. Percy sighed as he approached the hammock, placing one of his hands upon the support.

"You know, as your captain, I could have you booted off this ship for not maintaining my baby." he stated in the most casual manner possible.

"How could you be so cold, Perc? Kei was-" Victor protested, but Percy cut him off.

"-yes, he was part of the crew. But don't you forget, we're lucky we even got out alive, not to mention with the kid as well. Or who would you rather have killed?"

But Percy could guess what Victor was going to say. And Victor himself knew, as he stopped playing with his tool, and simply looked straight into Percy's eyes. His gold eyes were glossed with more moisture than usual, and red veins had darkened the whites. Percy could see water pool at the base of the eyes.

"Really?" Percy asked, and Victor nodded, "Fine, but you should know this boy, you don't get to choose who lives and who dies. You only get to choose how you tolerate those who live."

"I guess," the mechanic grumbled, looking away from Percy.

"Good," stated the captain, he then patted the back of the hammock, causing Victor to become a bit startled, "I've got Ovosh in one of the bunks, you've got three hours to make a good second impression. I warn you boy, if you try making any other kinds of impressions in her, you'll be out of the airlock before you can say 'bibbity-bobbity-buu'. "

Victor began coughing at the mere suggestionPercy made. "Captain! Why would you even think- I would never - how could you be making-"

But Percy was already off and laughing through the kicked open door. Victor could already feel his cheeks heating up. The act of craning his neck caused him to tumble out of the hammock, much to his embarrassment, despite the fact that his captain had departed, not bothering to capitalize upon his blunder. Shaking his head, and wiping his eyes, he found that some of the sorrowful liquid on his face had dried up and crusted. At this, he could only give out a droning groan.

Rising from his sprawled position on the floor, he slipped, as his legs and feet danced across the cluttered floor. Cursing silently, he managed to find his balance and get up. His baggy mechanics shirt had scrunched up in all kinds of uncomfortable places, so he straightened it, barely improving its state, yet alleviating him of discomfort. He began tiptoeing though his mess, eyeing certain tools and supplies he made a note to evacuate from their haphazard position sometime in the undefined future.

Finally, he made it to the bay. Victor eyed some of the diagnostics on the control panels. Scrunching his face at what he saw, he adjusted various knobs and pressed some buttons, giving a satisfied nod once he was finished. He made his way to the hall, struggling with the heavy door. As unintelligible words of frustration exited his mouth, the entrance gave way, inch by inch.

Victor exhaled triumphantly as the last resistance of the stubborn door gave way, swinging open, allowing him to walk through. He didn't bother to shut the door behind him. Instead, he left it to swing on it's own. To his right, he saw a lighter, smaller door.

As he took a step forward, Victor looked down, for it felt as if some congealing fluid had caught hold of him. To his relief and disappointment, this was not the case. It took him three minutes to be face to face with the peach colored door.

Swallowing, he considered knocking on the it, but hesitated. Caution and consideration had halted him, for he could only imagine the newcomer fast asleep in her bed. Yet, as he overcame this hindrance, yet a crushing feeling of guilt stayed his hand. It danced about the door as he weighed his options.

The sound his knuckles made against the metal entrance echoed down the hallway. Soon, the sound dissipated into naught but silence, as Victor had to wait a little while before the door creaked open. As the door inched away from closed position, Victor could see Ovosh standing behind the small opening. Only half of her face was visible, for the rest lay in shadow. No overt emotions swam in the eye he could see, it was akin to a blank canvas awaiting to be painted upon.

"Who is it?" she asked, her voice flat, yet cautious. Her question remained genuine, even as she had full view of the boy from her position.

"It's ... uh", Victor struggled, words trapped within his throat, "Uh ... uh."

"Oh right," the girl popped in. Victor could sense a rise in her body language, "You are this vessel's mechanic. Percy called you ... called you."

"He calls me 'boy'" Victor joked, finally finding his focus. He rubbed a hand through his hair, the hand itself clearly shaking as it served to mess his mop of a mane rather than neaten it. Clearing his throat, he continued, "But you can call me by my actual name, 'Victor'".

"Ah, Victor ..." Ovosh repeated. Now she was backing away, breaking eye contact with him as she did so.

"I'm sorry," she apologized once more, "I apologize about Kei. I proved inadequate in preventing his death. I..."

"No!" Victor countered, desperation creeping into his sudden outburst. He leaned into the door as he objected Ovosh's statement, his eyes were wide, allowing the fright and sorrow to become apparent in the golden irises.

"I was just being a little twerp," he explained, every syllable now spoken with decisive rhythm and unshakable confidence, "Percy was right, it would be ridiculous to expect you to do everything, especially now. You don't have any trai..."

"... Training," Ovosh completed for him. Despite her whole form being shrouded in the silhouette of the door and the darkness of her room, Victor could see her gaze hardening as doubt gave way to anger, and determination.

The sound of silence was the only response to her statement. Ovosh looked intently at Victor, trying to glean what exactly the boy made out of her, but could observe nothing as he looked down.

"Do you have anything else you wish to address?" she asked. Her hardened look had been gradually replaced with the neutrality that had been her home for many years. The door, which had obscured about half of her form had been moved to fully expose her.

"Perhaps if you were to enter into the room, we can continue this conversation in private. I suspect the Captain, despite his authority, makes the thought process rather difficult."

Victor gulped at her suggestion. Very quickly, he responded, "No, that's not necessary. Believe me."

After another moment of silence, with Victor examining the hallway, he continued, "I should get going. I hope you don't think that I hate you ... or anything. This day I'm sure, it's been crazy ... for both of us. And, I'm sure the next few days are going to be crazier. But Percy and I, we've been through this insanity before. We'll have your back."

Ovosh looked confused at the way Victor worded his reassurance, but he did accomplish his goal, reassure her. He slowly slid away, as if afraid of her, at least that was the impression he gave as he backed away. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and despite the relatively cool temperature of the ship, he was sweating.

She wiped her forehead and realized that she too had perspired. Her eyes fixated on the moisture. Looking up, she was somewhat disappointed to see that Victor had disappeared. Her door was left hanging open as she looked down the deep hallway, to where the young mechanic had departed. Puffing out the artificial atmosphere that circulated through the ship, she closed the door again, intending to rest until called.

...

The black field of space was dotted with numerous stars and distant glowing nebula of various colors. For millions upon millions of miles, nothing happened. It was all tranquil, even the buzz of subatomic particles was at a minimum. But, in one small section of that black field, that tranquility of nothingness had been broken.

Space itself opened up, revealing a blue shimmering portal. The bulky freighter Iceni emerged from its depths. After the subspace portal spat out the ship, it closed, ending its existence with a brilliant blue flash.

Inside a cramped dark room, a red light flashed above the metal door. The poofy haired man winced in the bunk as the entirety of his quarters was illuminated in crimson. "Three hours went by mighty quickly," he mumbled as he bolted out of his bed. Percy was about to exit, when he remembered something, and paused. Hung at the edge of the bunk was his long blue captain's jacket. Sighing, Percy grabbed his beloved coat, muttering to himself, "Another day at the office," as he slipped into it.

Percy rushed through the hallways, into the cockpit, and was greeted by the familiar expanse of space shimmering magnificently though the view-port. Seating himself in his faded red pilot's chair, he played around in it for a moment, before reaching for the communicator. Clicking on the "all channels" tab, labeled upon the side of the device.

"Alright kiddies," he began announcing, donning a slight smirk on his face, "I hope you've had a good beauty sleep. We've jumped into the Capella system. Put on your big boy pants, it's going to be a bumpy ride."

In the engine room, Victor fell out of his hammock once more. He let out a slew of curses before picking himself up and navigating the mess of tools to get to the engine console in order to help Percy coordinate the subspace jump to the designated planet Z would be receiving them at.

Meanwhile, Ovosh too heard Percy's announcement. It took her a little while to process his slang, but she eventually comprehended. She immediately exited her room, looking both ways down the hall. Her brow scrunched in confusion, before her memory hit her, and she dashed to her right. Ovosh flew past the common area, eyeing the bottle of "HFIL" upon the counter, before rejoining Percy inside the cockpit.

"You got here quickly kid," Percy commented as Ovosh entered. He didn't move his head to face her, nor initiate any other gesture to indicate that he acknowledged her presence. She only nodded, as she took the seat next to him.

Her eyes now scanned the unfamiliar starfield before them. The softly glowing nebulae in the background were of particular interest, and her gaze lingered upon the phenomenon longer than it should have. She could no longer sense the presence of Vega IV looming behind them. Now, there was nothing, nothing to pull her back. For billions, perhaps trillions of light years, nothing resided to anchor her still. She felt a slow exhale, taking note of the cold air that exited her nostrils. Ovosh pulled her legs up into the seat, and attempted to trap any remaining heat to keep her from shivering.

"Don't get too comfortable," Percy warned, "That co-pilot's chair is traditionally occupied by someone else."

He had said this while still keeping his eyes on his instruments. The captain did take a moment to glance in her direction, raising an eyebrow as he looked upon her cuddled form.

"Cold?" he asked, with a hint of surprise in his voice, "I thought the Empire liked to keep things relatively chilly in their environments, especially on Vega IV."

Ovosh didn't answer, as she simply tightened her grip around her legs.

"But then," he pondered, "I guess they keep things at a constant temp in the GTE. You don't really get uncomfortable, not too grouchy when your hot, not too shivery when your too cold. Just right, all the time..."

He cleared his throat, keyed in a couple of sequences upon the cockpit's dashboard and stood up. Ovosh turned her head to face him, now looking upon the lanky form that now towered over her.

"Sorry, I was rambling," Percy apologized, taking off his blue jacket, leaving nothing but a heavy dark grey long sleeved shirt covering his torso. "We heat up a lot at combat speed, and we had the benefit of being in close proximity to your planet's atmosphere. Space has very little heat to speak of, and our environmental controls are a crapshoot."

As he completed removing his jacket, he opened up the front of it, presenting this to Ovosh, as if inviting her in. "Here, this should help you keep toasty. Okay, I'm overselling this, but you should be less jittery than before."

Ovosh uncurled, and accepted Percy's offer, whispering flatly, her gratitude. Percy gave a smile as he caught her small gesture of thanks towards him. He gently wrapped the worn blue material around her shoulders. Ovosh did note a slight improvement in her situation, as Percy claimed. She was at the very least, able to retract her legs from the chair, and leave them to support themselves on the floor. Settling back in, she returned Percy's smile with a smaller one of her own.

The captain chuckled, "You know, if Victor saw this, I think he'd try to kill me."

"Really?" Ovosh inquired. Her curiosity and concern had begun to peak. She could also feel herself heating up, and readied herself to discard the jacket.

Percy let out yet another chuckle breaking the girl's stream of thoughts, "I'm just exaggerating. The kid, despite his issues, wouldn't harm a fly (unless I told him to, of course). But he'd be a little angry at me."

"Why?"

"Why?" Percy repeated. His eyes rolled back, searching for the correct answer to Ovosh's query, "I know why, but it's something I don't think you'll grasp, at least for now. It's hard to explain really, and, we've got bigger troubles to worry about."

Satisfied with his own answer, but left unsure if Ovosh herself was, Percy turned back to the dashboard, and began pushing away. A small buzz was heard, the source appeared to be coming from the intercom. Rolling his eyes, Percy snatched it and held it up to his mouth.

"Yes princess, what is it?" he asked, a small sneer apparent in his question.

"Oh!" responded the younger voice, "You're alright. I was wondering why we weren't making the jump to Sanctuary. I have everything set up."

"Do you?" Percy asked, with an eyebrow raised. The poofy haired man stole a small glance at some of the monitoring screens upon some of the instrument panels, then muttered under his breath, "Apparently you do."

"What?" buzzed Victor's voice through the intercom once more.

"I was having a little chat with our newest passenger here," he explained, then turned and gave Ovosh a small wink, to which she gave a confused look at.

"Oh ..." came Victor's response. After a small pause, he then continued, "Well, I don't want to be floating out in the middle of nowhere, and I'm sure Ovosh doesn't want to either. Can we get a move on?"

Despite Victor saying this in a rather calm tone, Percy's retort was any but that, for the intent was to get on Victor's nerves. "Okay you little brat, your wish is my command."

"Percy! For the love of-"

Static cut off whatever Victor was going to say as Percy terminated the conversation with the push of a button, before securing the intercom in its proper place. "Well that was fun," he commented to himself. He then turned back to what he was going to be doing, the exact thing Victor wanted.

"Forgive my inquiry," Ovosh said, having witnessed the exchange between Victor and Percy, "This is probably a question you can answer with tedious ease, but precisely how are we to reach this ... location designated 'Sanctuary'. There appears to be nothing within our general vicinity, although I could be mistaken."

"Sanctuary's a planet," Percy explained, as a familiar whirring could be heard. Ovosh felt the ship gathering velocity, and part of her question was answered.

"We're going into subspace, but this jump we're taking is going to be significantly shorter, as we're going to remain in the Capella system. This is nothing like those big intersystem jumps I believe you Imperials hear about all the time. This intrasystem jump we're about to make requires less firepower, so we can practically go wherever."

"I see," Ovosh nodded.

She turned back to see the familiar blue portal open in front of her. The freighter once more was sucked into the blue sea of the wormhole, only that the journey was far shorter.

...

In a mere fifteen minutes did the Iceni exit subspace. Ovosh's eyes adjusted to the blackness of space once more. Upon further observation, she could sense that there was something in the vicinity. As Percy navigated the freighter to the left, a round object appeared in the viewing area of the cockpit, a planet. This planet was vastly different than Vega IV. Vega IV was a flat metallic gray with thick swirls of white clouds and a blue hue from the star system's illumination. This planet was mainly light brown, with dots of green and blue spread across the landscape. The light illuminating it was not the cool blue of the Vega star, but a radiant yellow light. Turning to the light source, Ovosh had to shield her eyes, but could discern two golden stars.

"Don't stare too long kid, you'll lose your eyesight," Percy advised, intently focused on the planet in front of them.

"There," he stated, gesturing with his finger, aiming towards the planet, "Sanctuary. Home sweet home. Not as pretty as your Vega planet, and certainly not as cool despite the blue star."

"It does indeed look different than Vega IV," Ovosh commented, "Is that because of the yellow stars?"

"Partly," Percy answered, "But it's mostly to do with the terraforming process. The terraformers couldn't really account for the effects of a binary star system. End result is a planet with little moisture and lots of heat. Some of the more fortunate folk were able to not live in the desert, but unfortunately, that's not us."

"Desert," Ovosh sounded out. Yet another unfamiliar term.

"Yeah, desert," Percy acknowledged. "Get used to saying that word with disdain kid. Of all the livable planetary environments out there, the roughest is the desert. Luckily we'll be in one of the more urban areas, so there should be more to see."

"I warn you-" A sudden shift interrupted Percy's speech as both occupants were jostled by the turbulence. Alarms pasted upon the HUD were reflected in the captain's eyes as he began checking on the ship's status.

"Damn," he cursed under his breath. Ovosh was rather unsettled in the morbid manner he was carrying himself.

"What's the matter?" she inquired, as cold chills crawled across her skin in anticipation of the answer.

"We've been caught in a tractor beam. Must have been some pirates or scavengers floating around on auxiliary power, which is why my instruments didn't catch them. I no longer have control of the ship."

She felt her heart sink into a pit, as she lay back in her seat. The momentum of the Iceni no longer pressed forwards; Ovosh felt a slight bias to the port side. Percy had taken his hands off of the controls, for in control, he was not.

"These 'pirates' and 'scavengers', what are their motives?" Ovosh questioned, attempting to achieve full clarity on the situation.

"The main trade of these bastards is plunder. And by plunder, I mean engine parts, currency, weapons, electrical wiring -" he paused to hold back a sniffle "-swill. These guys are going to sweep the ship clean, and likely leave us to die. Or, if they're the nicer kind of scum, they'll kill us first, then take all that they need."

As he was saying this, he had taken back his blue captain's jacket from Ovosh, and had begun making his way to the lounge. Ovosh took this as a cue to follow him, and pursued the captain. The coldness of space was but a distant problem, for the intense pounding of her heart gave her all the heat she needed.

Percy continued his quick pace until he reached the hanger. As he was doing this, Ovosh could observe him keying in a sequence to some unknown device attached to his belt. He stopped once he reached a metal box near the back corner of the vast room, and began unlocking latches in order to open it. Victor entered the room immediately after with a frightened look on his face. Seeing him gave Ovosh a small comfort, but she didn't know why, for combat was not his main role.

She turned back towards Percy who had retrieved a few compact "L" shaped metallic objects from the box. He handed one of these objects to Ovosh. Grabbing a hold of it, she struggled a bit to balance the object; it was heavier than it looked. Upon closer inspection, there was finer detailing on it than she initially thought. A grip like apparatus formed the shorter leg of the "L", while the longer leg contained a hole at the end of it, as if it were to deliver a miniature projectile of some sort.

Victor received one of these objects as well, and he appeared to handle it as clumsily as Ovosh did. It jumped around in his hand, before he steadied it with the other upon the grip apparatus. When he looked up, staring straight at Ovosh, an expression of utter shock came over his face.

"You're giving her a gun?!" he shouted to Percy, who was holding his own "gun" rather sturdily and confidently.

"Calm down," Percy advised, though Ovosh could see globules of sweat across his brow, "I'm going to have to ask you two to keep a cool head, and more importantly, to not speak at all. We're outmatched as it is. These pirate groups typically have about four to five people each, they're armed with all kinds of weapons, and they all know how to use them. As long as we look like we know how to use ours, they'll have to ... reconsider some things."

"But that's just delaying them! They're going to figure us out sooner or later!" Victor countered.

"Exactly!" Percy shouted back, "Don't you worry, I have help on the way. If we can survive for five minutes, we'll be in the clear."

Victor's shoulders sunk, muttering, "at this rate, five minutes will take an eternity."

Meanwhile, Percy turned back to Ovosh. "Alright kid, your holding a dangerous weapon there. Make sure to keep the barrel pointed away from you."

Ovosh deduced the barrel was the leg with the hole, and immediately directed it away from her body. Unfortunately, this action directed it towards Percy, who exclaimed, "Well don't point it at me!"

She remedied this, keeping the barrel aimed at the hanger door, presumably where the bandits would enter. Percy quickly reclaimed his composure, and began holding the weapon his way, one hand wrapped around the handle, another supporting the base.

"Hold your gun like this kid. It's a good fundamental grip," he instructed. His thumb on the handle hand then reached up, and clicked back a small trigger at the end of the barrel. "Take the safety down. Once you do this, you really shouldn't be pointing this at me, or Victor. Feel free to aim it at the pirates though."

Ovosh did this, hearing the small click the safety made as her own thumb pulled it down. Gripping the gun was proving a bit difficult, as her palms were becoming moist.

"Finally," Percy added on, "If things start getting crazy, and you probably should know when that is, squeeze this trigger down here." As he said this, his index finger pointed to the trigger located within the crotch of the weapon. "Remember to squeeze hard," he added on.

Ovosh swallowed some excess saliva as she raised up the weapon again. Metallic clanking could be heard against the hanger door. Ovosh suspected it was some device of the enemy, designed to create a breach within the ship's hull. She could feel globules of moisture forming on her forehead. Her heart rate elevated and her eyes widened, glued to the hanger door.

The next sequence didn't play out as she anticipated. Apparently, the device these scavengers were using simply forced the hangar door to open. Still, there was difficulty breathing and staying her ground after observing the door slowly ascend.

Once the door was fully opened, their adversaries did emerge. They numbered in five. Three of them were male two of them were female. The first one to enter appeared to be the leader, judging from the cleanliness of his gray jacket, and the confident way he carried himself. One hand of his was on a gun, the other appeared to command. The other four filed up behind the fair, short-haired man.

First was a female with a partial shave, leaving a tangled mess of off-colored pink hair from her forehead to the back of her neck. She carried a significantly larger gun than the rest, requiring her to mount it on her hip.

A large burly man with a completely shaved head followed up behind her, carrying a large, yet stout gun that still required two hands to wield.

The third was a rather thin man, and appeared the most aged of the group. His gun, while still larger than the ones Ovosh, Percy and Victor carried, was rather simple, with two barrels forming the projectile delivery system, and an unnecessarily stylized, curved handle.

The final one to intrude on the ship was a rather compact being, Ovosh couldn't exactly estimate exactly how compact, for she was focused on the two weapons, both more substantial than the gun she herself carried, that the compact female swung around with one hand on each.

The man in the front blew out a puff of air before using his free hand to reach into his gray jacket. A small white cylindrical object was revealed. Is it a weapon? What are its capabilities? Ovosh peeled her eyes away from the man to glance at Victor and Percy for but a moment, but reading their faces revealed nothing of what they knew.

Her eyes then darted back to the man, who had placed the object inside his mouth, and had retrieved yet another object, this one metallic in nature. He brought it to the white cylindrical stick in his mouth and flipped back the lid, which seemed to activate it. A flame visibly ignited from the metal object, which made Ovosh's legs shake rather intensely. She could catch a couple of sniggers from the direction of the pirates, but she did not know exactly who it came from. A small click was heard as the man closed the lid to the flame generator, the end of the cylindrical object in his mouth now a glowing orange.

While the object was in his mouth, he stored the metal flame generator away, and began speaking with a voice that had been tainted with unconventional abnormalities, "Well, ain't this a pickle we've got here."

As he said this, his free hand removed the small white stick from his mouth, and he exhaled, ejecting smoke along with it. Ovosh closed her eyes tightly. As the smoke approached, her breathing became shallow.

This did not escape the man's, nor the rest of the crew's attention. His eyes were clearly on Ovosh now, as she began coughing.

"No need to worry darlin'," he reassured, though the sneering tone within his voice cause Ovosh to doubt his intentions, "That ain't gonna kill you, at least not yet. I'd be worried more about the here and now,for good reason."

He chuckled again, with the rest of his subordinates following suit. To her right, she could hear the growly, yet friendly voice of Percy murmur to her, "Don't worry kid, I've got this, I've got this."

The man took a large step forward, and began pacing, lowering his weapon, though the four behind him did not.

"I have to say," he announced, this time in a louder voice, "When we was floating out here, I didn't expect to land Perc the Merc. I thought you was dead Perc, got caught up with some of those ki-freaks."

"What can I say?" Percy replied, his voice low in tone, "I'm tough to kill."

"I'd love to test that," the man replied, moving back, and softly tapping the large man under his command with an elbow. Both of them shared a rather sinister chuckle before the leader moved back to the front, and continued, "But I ain't keen on losing one of my boys." After the compact female cleared her throat rather loudly, the man quickly added on, "And gals. Though I don't know if we should include you in that group Ramona."

Ovosh observed the woman presumably identified as "Ramona" mouth out some words that she could not visually identify. Their leader, meanwhile let out a small chuckle, then continued:

"So, here is my conundrum, if I ask my crew to dust you, I ain't sure that we're all coming out alive. Getting new help is troublesome, not to mention expensive. But ..."

An unnerving glint was now apparent in his eyes as he spoke, "I don't want to just let a freshly caught freighter of goodies just slip on by because some amateurs are pointin' pea shooters at us. That just don't sit right by me."

The man cleared his throat, then slowly raised his pistol, aiming directly at Percy, whose face remained as unmovable as Imperial steel.

"There is of course, a third option," the guttural voice of Percy rang out. There was a noticeable lack of inflection in his voice; a stark contrast to his usual charismatic mocking tone.

"Really? 'Cause from here, things seem a bit binary," sneered the female with the oft-colored hair.

"I was thinking we could trade.." the captain offered, "You guys get something nice and shiny, and we get to be on our merry. No one dies, and we all keep our faces pretty as a bonus."

"A trade, eh?" the leader mused, bringing his off-weapon hand to his chin. "It better be something good, otherwise, I think we're going to be standing here a little while longer."

"Ah ..." Percy began stuttering, "Well ... we have some compressors, some capacitors, some hydrotools."

"No, no," interrupted the leader, shaking his head. He then wagged his pointer of his free hand, the digit oscillating before his face, "Tsk tsk Perc, not how I expected you to deal at all, givin' us dollar store crap for gold."

Percy still continued, "Well, I do have a hell of a swill cabinet. That's something valuable for you."

"Tempting," the leader said, still holding the three at gunpoint, "But I'd need somethin' a bit more, like one of your engines, or ..."

"One of our engines?" Percy asked, almost spitting out his syllables, "C'mon, that's like you asking me to give my heart in exchange for letting me live. That ain't a good deal at all!"

"Hold your fanny Perc," the leader growled, "I was thinkin', the girlie you've got there, she's got a pretty face. My crew could use an extra hand, as well as some entertainment."

Cold sweat began emanating from her face, and her arms began shaking. Ovosh could feel the malicious glares of some of the pirates now on her. She also heard several clicks in the direction of their adversaries, along with the shifting and repositioning of weapons.

"What are you, crazy?" Percy retorted. Ovosh's eyes widened as the unshakable visage of the captain had vanished. His face was now twisted into an expression of shock and desperation, and his hands were now shaking.

"The crazy one is you," the leader retorted, "Now, I-"

A crash echoed directly behind the pirates. Ovosh gauged the sound had to come from within their adversaries' vessel, but could not hazard a guess as to what it could be. The phenomenon provided momentary relief from the stand-off, as the scavengers began surveying what exactly occurred in their ship. This proved difficult, for the crash had resulted in a lot of smoke, clouding everyone's vision.

With the pirates' backs momentarily to them, she advanced, weighing the weapon in her hand, as if its mass would indicate to her its destructive potential. A slender hand was held in front of her; the owner of the hand, Percy, shaking his head. Ovosh nodded understandingly, and backed down. The barrel of her weapon sunk until it pointed at the floor. However, she could only scrunch her brow in confusion, for she had sensed a distinct tactical advantage.

"Back away kid, things are going to get messy," whispered the low voice of the captain. He gestured her to back away. There were some large metal boxes and instrument panels that Ovosh could observe that Percy was guiding her to. Victor was also backing away as well, though his weapon was still trained on the pirates.

The smoke managed to thin out a little, and Ovosh could steal a glance at what happened. The catastrophic event was not the result of natural phenomenon, it was man-made. As the smoke cleared completely, Ovosh could observe that the newcomer was heavily armored in steel gray metal plating, covering whoever it was in head to toe. In one hand, the newcomer held a large bladed object, slightly curved, and about 2/3rds the newcomer's formidable height in length. Upon further inspection, Ovosh could see a jagged upheaval within the hostile ship's interior, a hole which had been clearly made by the newcomer.

"Who the hell are you?" shouted the leader, his gun now pointed at the large figure. It reacted with nothing but silence.

"Don't matter boss," said the large pirate, "Any chump that breaks into this stand-off gets lit up like a fire pit."

"Agreed," nodded the leader, "Smoke him!"

Their weapons were unleashed on the newcomer. Bright quick orange flashes were emitted from the barrels, blinking in and out of view as quick as a lightning strike. The projectiles traveled too fast for Ovosh to observe, but she could see them impacting upon the newcomer's armor with orange sparks indicating the contact points.

The newcomer took a small step forward, then another and another. The pirates began backing away as it was apparent their weapons were having no effect.

The next step the newcomer took was a quick one and covered great distance. Now the behemoth was at the position of the compact female "Ramona". A loud metallic clang was heard from steel impacting flesh, along with several loud cracks, as "Ramona" was sent flying into the wall near Ovosh's position.

Ovosh blinked, now the unknown warrior was at the position of the large pirate. The man hastily pointed his weapon at the warrior, only to have it fall out of his hands, cut clean in half. The large blade the armored one held was now above his head; Ovosh didn't even see the swinging motion to cleave the gun in half.

Growling, the large man struck with a punch of his own. Ovosh could traced the path of his blow, see every muscle contraction, before it clanged and cracked against the armor of the warrior. The man let out a scream of pain, before being grappled in the chest by the newcomer, kneed in the gut, which sent him flying into the hangar ceiling.

The off-haired female and the older male had taken the time the large man was neutralized to flank the armored one, planting an object Ovosh could not observe upon the warrior's back. The purpose of these object became apparent in the next second, as both pirates dove away as these objects detonated in a black and orange inferno, consuming the warrior's large frame.

"That worked didn't it?" growled the off-haired female.

The older man gave her a scathing look, "What do you think, duma-"

He let out a large scream, cutting off his speech, for the armored foot of the warrior was pressed against his abdomen. The scream died down after a few crunches were heard.

"Fuck you!" screamed the off-haired female as she charged the warrior. Multiple cracks could be heard as she pulled out a small gun to initialize her attack. Once she was in range, she swung wildly at the warrior, only for a gloved hand to grab her face.

The woman was lifted off her feet, a menial task for her much taller adversary. The warrior then pushed down, slamming the woman's head into the bare metal floor of the Iceni's hangar.

A small click was heard. Ovosh's eyes shot upwards, for that was where she detected the disturbance. Her eyes rested upon the leader of the now-incapacitated scavenger crew, his weapon pointed directly at Percy. He was grinning, but unlike the grins of Victor, Kei, and even Percy, this one sent unsettling flutters throughout Ovosh's stomach.

The armored warrior was now facing the leader. The scavenger did not turn to face the colossal figure, but held up his hand in the general direction of the newcomer.

"I see what's going on here," the leader said, weapon still pointed at Percy, "You and them, you're in cahoots with one another. So I reckon you don't want to see one of your boys' brains splattered against the back wall."

"I see you take one step, one step, forward, and I pull the trigger. So, what are you going to do?"

The armored warrior stood there silent and unmoving. The leader had gradually turned away from Percy, who now began shifting his feet rather subtly, his eyes dead focused on the pirate leader's weapon. Percy then gave a little nod.

After Percy gave the nod, the warrior took a small step forward. The leader's eyes grew wild and savage as he growled, "That's it, he's history!"

Percy leapt from the ground, rotating his torso so he could lift his legs up, effectively disarming the leader. The small weapon went airborne as Percy completed the rotation, landing squarely on his feet. Ovosh let out a small gasp in response to the unexpectedly swifty and spry athletics of the captain.

The leader growled, and from the sleeve of his grey jacket, emerged a small knife, which he immediately thrust towards Percy. However, Percy was once again airborn, this time rotating around the vertical axis, launching his foot out once more. This rotary kick impacted squarely against the jaw of the man, sending him spinning off the platform he was standing on.

The leader stumbled, his eyes half-closed, before collapsing in a heap on the ground. Upon seeing this, Ovosh slowly rose from her position, hesitant to assume the situation had been settled.

But Percy's reassuring nod allowed Ovosh to move with confidence. Turning her head back, she could also see the Victor had also risen from his position.

From a distance, the armored warrior began slowly approaching the group. Each step sent a small reverberation through the ground. There was something ... else ... that Ovosh felt about this warrior, though this something she couldn't classify. Ovosh chose to ignore this for the moment, for it appeared there were other objectives that took priority.

"It's about time you made it," Percy scolded, the slight grin on his face suggesting the comment was not as harsh as its content indicated. The armored warrior didn't respond, but there was a slight shift in composure.

The warrior came to a full stop, right in front of Percy, and removed the domed helmet. revealing long dark hair contained in a ponytail, a pale face with large eyes, and other softer, feminine features. Further observations of the warrior's armor by Ovosh revealed that while bulky and massive, the armor was designed to accommodate female body structure.

"We should move," Percy suggested, after a period of silence, "Let's get these bodies off of my ship. I think they'll be fine on their own piece of junk, if that even matters. Their containment fields seem to be holding up on the account that we're all not being sucked into space."

The armored warrior gave Percy a nod, and then began to levitate on her own volition, similar to Kei. She stored her blade inside of a long compartment located across her back. One by one the warrior picked up the bodies, with no apparent strain as she piled them within the cradle of her arms. After levitating over into the other ship, she simply dropped their vanquished foes upon the metal ground, before retreating back into the Iceni. She came to a stop in front of Percy once more, ceasing to levitate. This time, however, her proximity to him was extremely close.

Placing both of her significantly sized hands on Percy's soldiers, the warrior leaned in before her face made contact with his. This position was held for a while. Ovosh's eyes darted around in confusion, before settling on Victor, who recognized her looking at him, and for some reason his cheeks grew bright red upon the realization. This appeared to be an infectious phenomenon, for Ovosh could feel rapid blood rush to her cheeks as well upon witnessing Percy and the unnamed newcomer.

At last, she pulled away, the emotionless expression of the warrior replaced with one of what Ovosh determined as happiness. Percy backed away slowly before turning to Ovosh, keeping a hand of his on the newcomer's shoulder.

"Apologies," Percy said, a large grin on his face, "I'll need to get introductions out of the way. This is Oriko, she's an ally. You'll be seeing her face around a lot as you're training."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Ovosh said to Oriko. The warrior remained silent, but gave her a small smile and a nod.

Still Ovosh was left feeling rather uncomfortable, for she had not heard Oriko speak a single word, She made this known to Percy, "She does not appear to partake in vocal communication."

"Yeah," Percy acknowledged, taking the hand on Oriko's shoulder and rubbing the back of his neck with the other, "Oriko doesn't talk good like you or me. She can comprehend for sure, but she's impaired on the giving end. Though to be honest, I don't know what I would do if she could talk..."

Percy's explanation was interrupted as he was lifted up from the ground. Oriko gave him a rather stern look, while Percy was shouting, "Hey, alright, I was just joking!" Oriko then set him down, her stern expression replaced with a small smile.

Percy adjusted his jacket and cleared his throat. "As I was saying," he continued, his eyes briefly darting to Oriko, "She can communicate in a more visual way. You'll get used to it the longer you stay. And if you need a translator ..."

Percy pointed a thumb to his chest, "I'm your best bet."

"Acknowledged," Ovosh said, nodding slowly. Percy began making his way to the cockpit once more, Oriko following him closely. Looking around, Victor had made his way to the central control panel, and was pushing a sequence of buttons. This prompted both the pirate ship, and the Iceni"s doors to close. Ovosh decided to make her way, following Oriko and Percy.

The Iceni detached from the much larger ship. The planet Sanctuary provided a luminous sandy backdrop as the Iceni hovered away, before engaging her thrusters once more, heading to the planet's surface.

...

The yellow sun shown brightly upon the sprawling metropolis. The buildings were made from identical steel white material, taking unimpressive shapes. Domes were domes because function demanded they would be domes. Skyscrapers were rectangles because they made efficient use of space. Height was determined by occupants, not by any attempt to impress.

But the Empire recognized the function of impressing upon the regular civilian. The center of the city was occupied by a tall spire, nearly twice the height of the more statuesque structures. This spire expanded out into a square monolith near the bottom, each corner occupied by rectangular turrets. All roads, instead of forming a square grid, formed a web, with the center occupied by the grand structure.

Within the capital building, inside a large sanitary throne room, stood the Emperor himself. He stood with arms folded behind his back, casting a tall shadow for a man of his stature. His white robes were even more immaculate that in the hologram, and his icey stare even more piercing. His seat, which he stood in front of, was elevated off of the ground by at least two stories. To even reach it, one had to ascend crystal clear glass planes, suspended in the air with no visible means.

At the foot of the steps were three more figures of white, though their uniforms conformed to a more military fashion. All of them lay genuflected, their eyes averting direct contact with the Emperor. The figure in the center rose, her straight, neck length hair not even displacing upon the motion. Her dark, stern eyes rose to meet the cold crimson ones of her master. The other two, a large man with bright blue eyes, tan skin, and neatly combed back blonde hair, and a shorter, lankier man with a brown mullet and expressionless green eyes, remained in their positions.

"I have received your summons, Supreme One," the woman announced in a regulated, yet authoritative voice. Placing a hand across her chest, she asked "What is your bidding?"

The Emperor stood there, motionless. His deep cold voice echoed throughout the room, "An incident occurred in the Vega system. A civilian was captured by individuals affiliated with terrorist organization Z."

The woman nodded slowly, then inquired, "I will follow your orders to the letter, but I must ask, why would a singular citizen draw this much attention from you, my Emperor?"

"Observations indicate that this individual possesses a sizable ki capacity. As you know, an operation similar to this was carried out in the Altair system one year ago. This resulted in Z possessing a capable individual with inside knowledge of some of the institutions of the Empire, despite being a regular civilian. Because of this, our operations within the Capella system were crippled. To ignore another incident like this, would be a disaster."

"Understood, my lord." acknowledged the woman with a small bow.

The Emperor continued, he turned his back to the woman, looking upon the rest of the throne room. His hands remained clasped behind his back.

"Very good," he responded, "then you, Markova, should understand that your task is to neutralize this threat. The civilian is female, Id: VEG-8264, Name: Ovosh. You should find more relevant information on your personal transport that is to be en route to Capella. Capture her if possible, terminate her if necessary."

"Understood," the woman named Markova acknowledged, before she bowed once more. The other two in the room rose up simultaneously. The woman passed between the two, before they followed out, maintaining a consistent flanking position. The wide throne room doors opened, revealing a long hallway of considerable size, yet with the same white steel finish as the rest of the city. The Emperor had turned about, observing the exit of his three servants. He then sat down, eyes staring straight into space, trying to find his new adversary.


	4. The New Daughter of Z

The bulky freighter burst through the atmosphere of the planet. Rich orange friction enveloped the front of the vessel, giving the appearance of a comet. Despite this, the ship remained intact for the duration this atmospheric entry lasted.

For the occupants in the cockpit, Percy and Oriko, the effects of the atmospheric friction rendered their viewpoint blind. Percy in particular found it necessary to shield his eyes from the bright orange entry effects currently dominating the cockpit view. Oriko, however, remained unaffected as she assisted Percy with cockpit functionality without so much as a wince.

"Damn, I hate reentry, even though it's good to be home," Percy commented. Oriko remained silent, then tilted her head, eyes narrowing.

"Huh," Percy scoffed, "You think it's pretty? Of course, something like this doesn't really affect you folk. I on the other hand ..."

A gigantic metal-clad hand was placed on his shoulder. This was accompanied by a small smile from the titanic warrior.

" _I'm_ getting worked up?" Percy said, raising an eyebrow. He then sighed, placing his hand upon hers. As they held hands, the interaction was brought off of his shoulder. The captain had calmed down, and reflected Oriko's smile back.

"I'm sorry Oriko, it's been a long operation, and one we took a major hit from." he apologized. Hours of sleepless nights and restless days strained his vocal chords. "But I'm home again, and more importantly, we get to do this whole shinding together."

Oriko nodded, closing her eyes, and opening them again. Both let go of the other, before resuming their business. Percy let out a relieved exhale as reentry neared completion. Finally, he could observe what lay beyond the canopy of the cockpit once more.

...

Motors hummed and roared, filling the engine room with booming ambiance. The young mechanic was silently at work, scurrying about in a manner similar to a desperate rodent. Oil-stained hands roughly inspected every rusty bolt, shaft and beam that held the aged machines together. A wide eye veered towards a boxy console control, confirming every status, and configuration upon the bulky panel.

Ovosh lay sitting against the adjacent corner. Not a word had been exchanged since she had decided to depart the cool canopy of the cockpit. As brown eyes lay upon the oil-stained mechanic, conversation had found itself in her chest, yet she was hesitant to engage. While the girl continued to observe the raw focus and single-mindedness of Victor in regards to his duty, words once ready to burst form her mouth now died away.

 _I wonder if my presence here serves any beneficial purpose_. She felt her legs tense as they reared to lift her now heavy body from the cool metallic floor. Yet, she remained, still feeling the rough vibrations of the wall that had accompanied the reentry process. And as she fought her stone cold exhaustion, never did her eyes leave the young mechanic.

His movements were wasteful and impractical, at least on first glance. But there was a certain focus that was rather fascinating, as he jumped from one part of the control panel to the other, to the reactor, to the motor, adjusting some diagnostic, another power level, among other aspects to ensure optimum functionality.

The humming died down, and Ovosh's eyes darted around. _We must have completed reentry_. This was indicated by Victor taking the goggles off of his forehead, throwing them aside, and leaning back into one of his chairs, breathing heavily.

Victor was immediately jolted out of his relaxed state upon making eye contact with Ovosh. He let out a small yelp, falling out of his chair down to the cluttered floor. Akin to a stone falling in water, various tools and debris flew out from the point of impact. He managed to collect himself, and opened his mouth. Anything he could have to say became trapped in his throat, and all that exited his gaping mouth were pained exhales.

Ovosh rose immediately, wearing no sign of distress or discomfort upon her face. Her neutral exterior failed to account for the turmoil that now wracked her inside. She avoided Victor's gaze, instead eyeing the exit, "Forgive me for distracting you. I'll depart so you can resume peak performance."

Blood rushed to her face, a sensation that gave her an unpleasant knot in her stomach. She quickly turned towards the door, before hearing a loud "Wait!" from Victor's direction.

"Huh?" Ovosh gasped, as she ceased her departure. She turned back slowly to the young mechanic, whose eyes were wide once more. He was a good distance away from her, yet he was reaching out, and Ovosh could almost feel his grip on her collar.

"Don't you worry about it!" Victor reassured, putting on a large smile that cause Ovosh's muscles to relax. Not completely, however.

"My presence serves no purpose here," Ovosh declared, "I was leaving so you would not have to suffer an incident like the one before again."

"Well, we've completed reentry," Victor stated, confirming Ovosh's suspicions, "I've got nothing else to do until we land, which will take about 30 minutes to an hour. I wouldn't ... uh ... mind talking to you."

Ovosh breathed deeply, weighing the actions and possible consequences. She stayed put, as desire from the back in her mind had come to the forefront, rooting her in place. Their initial contact, while rudimentary and crude could be built upon.

"I agree with that sentiment," Ovosh stated, the last bastions of stress vanishing within her.

Naught but silence followed, with Ovosh and Victor staring blankly at each other. Victor's face had gone red once more, and Ovosh could feel her own beginning to heat up. _This is a very concerning condition. Perhaps once we arrived to the established quarters, I can get it checked_

Victor suddenly broke out shouting, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Ovosh's eyes widened, staring at the hysterics happening in front of her, "Sorry?" she queried, "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, you should know," he skulked, his face down, allowing his golden locks to shield his eyes, "I'm never really good in these kind of situations, I must be boring you right now."

An eyebrow was raised on Ovosh's face, "Boring? I'm not sure what you mean by that."

Victor's head rose, his golden eyes making contact with Ovosh's. She could see the red slowly start to drain from his face, and his facial muscles loosen. "Oh ... " he breathed, "Oh I ... I ... forgot ... I mean ... I ..."

"Well, " Ovosh hesitantly interrupted, seeing that he was having difficulty, "I deem it appropriate that I exchange the same apology in kind. Many events have transpired today, appropriate for us to elaborate upon, yet I have very little to comment upon them."

Ovosh felt her stomach tingle as she realized something. A few small puffs of air escaped from her mouth that startled her.

"What's so funny?" Victor asked, confusion beginning to cloud his eyes.

"Funny?" Ovosh responded, "I'm afraid I cannot comment on that. But, I did just realize ..."

"Realize what?" Victor pressed. A light was lit in those golden irises, a light that Ovosh couldn't take her eyes off of. She managed to snap out of her miniature trance and explain, "I realized that I have been elaborating in great detail, my inability to elaborate."

A second round of short exhales wracked her body, but these were anything but unpleasant. They felt natural, even uplifting, despite the strange sounds emitting from her mouth. She checked to see if Victor was concerned with her condition, but he was laughing ... along with her.

As her own laughter quieted down, Ovosh queried, "You found my paradox ... amusing?"

"I guess," he responded, chuckles still manipulating his speech, "But, I don't know. I didn't meet you for more than a day, and yet, it's kinda funny that I've never seen you laugh before."

"Neither have I," Ovosh agreed.

There was another silence, that followed, a silence that felt far more comfortable to Ovosh as Victor managed to settle down and take a seat upon the floor.

...

A circular platform extended beyond the proud enamel structure that many in the Empire saw as the Emperor's palace. There was a certain sleekness and artistry in how the platform extended from the building. This was recognized as an unnecessary feature originating from an old and obsolete age. But while the city around the Emperor's dwelling had been stripped down and improved upon for the Galactic Terran Empire's millennium long reign, the palace had remained forever constant, and forever towering.

On the path to the platform were three figures, in white military dress. Black boots, and golden sashes. The Emperor's highest servants. The other grey-uniformed soldiers stood clear of the three. While many wore expressionless wide-visored helmets, it was clear they had averted their gaze, instead choosing to linger upon their own polished footwear.

Upon the platform stood another military figure with a gray sash, obviously someone of higher rank. He genuflected towards them, his head bowing down in submission.

Behind the official, lay a stark white craft. It possessed a stout round body with a pointed nose. Curved, aerodynamic fins graced it's flanks, taking the entire length of the ship before tapering off to the sides. Smaller apparatus's meant for finer maneuvering flared out of its rear. A black strip affixed to the top part of the front. It possessed reflective qualities, as if it were made from glass, and not sterile Imperial steel.

"It is an honor to be of service to the Emperor's Highest," the man said as the three reached the platform

"Bolshoy, shield of the emperor," he identified. The large, blond haired man nodded approvingly at the officer as he passed him, the platform to the spacecraft creaking ever so slightly as he stepped on.

"Meya, sword of the emperor," he continued at the lankier, brown haired man. The man did not give the same approval Bolshoy did, electing to not even slow his robotic gait as he passed the officer. None of his footfalls made even a decibel of sound as he glided on.

"And Markova, right hand of the Emperor," the man finished, his voice most reverent, as the black-haired woman passed him. She paused, staring down at the genuflected officer.

"Rise," she said, "There is no need for ceremony here. Our mission is but a trivial one."

After she had said this, the Empire's customary salute was given. The officer returned the salute, then performed a crisp right flank, drilled in by years of conditioning and training, and departed from the platform.

Markova went her own way, joining her comrades on the spacecraft, each of her steps crisp, almost as if she was still performing a military march. After she had ducked through the doorway, the Right Hand found herself within the ship's cockpit. A sleek, yet functionally designed dash board arced across the front. Three chairs occupied the rest of the useful area in the space, with two located directly behind the instrument panels, one on the left, one on the right. Bolshoy and Meya had already taken their respective seats. Markova remained standing, directly at the head of the cockpit. Her eyes shifted back and forth, surveying the scene, eyeing the other two Imperial elites, both under her command.

"Did you not just mention that there was little time for ceremony?" Meya questioned in a rather stoic tone. His dull green eyes gave a rather piercing glare in Markova's direction as she still was inspecting her surroundings.

"It is advisable to show respect to the Right Hand of the Emperor!" bellowed Bolshoy, his deep growling voice filling up the cockpit.

"It is also prudent to remind you, Shield," Meya responded, his eyes almost dissecting the larger man, "That the Right Hand lacks our experience. While she holds authority second to the Emperor, she is not the Emperor. As the Sword and Shield of our Supreme Lord, we must ensure the new Hand fits, in order that we may be wielded properly."

"Do not lecture me with your allegorical whimsies!" Bolshoy shot back, resulting in a fleck of spit flying from his face. Meya blinked, his eyes for but a second fixated on the spittle, before veering straight back to Markova. Whilst they bickered, the Right Hand remained standing, wearing an irked expression.

"Nevertheless," Meya continued, "I must remind the Hand, that while the parameters of our mission are simple, the execution will be not. If our presence is detected in the Capella system at the wrong time, we would hinder Imperial operations within the system. We must exercise the Emperor's patience."

"I know this," Markova shot back.

Meya nodded, "We shall see. For now, we have lingered here long enough."

"Agreed,"

Markova finally took a seat, then tapped on a keypad upon the armrest. " _Imperial Trinity_ , sending takeoff query."

The intercom of the ship echoed through the cockpit, another emotionless voice ringing through it, "Takeoff query received and accepted. Long live the Empire."

With that, the white spacecraft effortlessly levitated, positioning itself efficiently in the direction of its planned destination, before lifting off into the cloudy sky.

...

The bulky metal contraption's descent had revealed a great many structures on the surface of Sanctuary that weren't visible from before. Upon the sand-blasted terrain lay a small, quaint urban area the Iceni had begun its descent to. Compared to the tall, sprawling uniform skyscrapers of Vega IV, the small huts that composed the area were inconsistent, decrepit, earthen structures that only possessed a passing attempt at organization. Streaming through the mess of primitive construction were rugged, curving dirt roads.

Ovosh could observe all of this from the view screen that sat within the engine room. She could sense the ship's velocity lessen, and a drop in her stomach indicated its descent. She tried to ascertain the position of where they would land. Her eyes strained to see if she could spot a landing platform or a spaceport.

The _Iceni_ , was indeed headed towards a landing platform, currently maneuvering around it in a compact centrifugal pattern. This path shrank until the ship hovered above the relatively simple slab of metal, Various platforms of identical design lay in the vicinity, occupied with a variety of vessels. Despite the differentiation between the craft, they shared one distinctive feature, they all had the appearance of wear and tear, some displaying rusted metal, others worn or dulled paint, and yet others most strikingly, battle damage.

Next to such a diverse collection, the _Iceni_ fit in. Landing stabilizers extended from the sides of the hanger area of the ship. These contraptions allowed the bottom of the freighter to hover a few feet from the dulled metal surface of the platform. As the ship made its landing, a figure wrapped in a tanned turban and robes, with several metal attachments approached the new arrival.

The figure peered up at the bulky vessel, revealing that whatever parts of its face would be revealed to the world were hidden behind a bulky metal visor, shrouding its eyes in darkness. It pulled out a small wooden board and a long thin stick. It began to furiously scribble upon the board. As the _Iceni_ settled down, it approached the entrance to the ship.

There was a hiss of smoke as a platform from the ship's hanger extended downwards to allow the occupants a reasonable walk to the planet's surface. Four figures emerged, the lanky blue-coated Percy lead the pack. The desert winds made a pass, and managed to disrupt his hair, causing the dark brown strands to fly away from his face.

The second figure was far taller and bulkier, completely covered in metal, and carrying a visible weapon. This did not phase the turban-wearing figure in the slightest, as it continued to scribble on the wooden board.

The third and fourth figures exited at the same time, one boy and one girl. The boy had messy, yet vibrant golden locks, but his amber eyes were obscured by a pair of bulky mechanical goggles. The girl was dressed in a very simple, very neat grey shirt and pants. There was a brown cloth wrapped around her face, only making her neutral brown eyes visible.

Victor whispered to Ovosh as they were about to step onto the landing platform, "keep that on, we don't want to attract attention."

Ovosh turned, giving Victor a confused look.

Percy had paused, staring at the tanned robed figure. He did not pay it heed, turning back to face Ovosh, "this town's a bit rougher than your Imperial cities. These people eat up pretty folk so fast, you won't even have a chance to say 'no'."

Victor's eyes narrowed, a difficult action to observe through the foggy goggles, as he murmured not very quietly, "Yeah captain, why don't you have to cover your face?"

"Because I have a reputation, and reputations' what we gotta get the kid before she can walk willy nilly showing off that nice vulnerable Imperial mug."

"Your mentioning of my former allegiance may not be such a wise idea," Ovosh interjected, her voice slightly muffled by the cloth obscuring it.

"If we tried hiding it, we'd look like a bunch of chumps," Percy countered, beginning to turn around once more, "Everybody and their mother can tell you you're an Imperial. Lots of former (not to mention current) Imperials reside here. You're with us, so that should prevent any nosy bastard from getting familiar with you."

Percy then strode off and met with the robed-visored figure. They appeared to exchange dialogue, the figure continuing to scribble on the wooden board. Finally, Percy patted the man on the shoulder, and turned around, walking back towards the group.

"Alright crew, we've gotten the okay to use this spot." Percy announced, showing off a rather large grin. He then narrowed his eyes towards the mechanic, "Victor, you made sure security protocols are in place?"

"Everything's locked up capt'n!" Victor confirmed enthusiastically.

"Alright," Percy nodded, his tone fluctuating in a rather melodic way, "If some scavengers steal our engines or our subspace drive, I know who to blame."

"Of course you do," Victor sighed as he picked up his feet, following Percy. Ovosh followed suit, as well as Oriko as the four began making their way into one of the main roads of the town.

Ovosh's eyes darted around surveying the streets. Many beings occupied them, dressed in messy worn garb. Various shades of green, tan, and brown dominated the throngs of people, an overwhelming color palate. The short, decrepit earthen structures, blasted by the light tan terrain, provided the appropriate backdrop to such a view. Most walked, others however, ran through the throngs, pushing some over, and others pushing them over. A shout startled Ovosh, and she slowed her pace, a male and female were engaged in combat, if the mess of limbs and fists flailing at each other could be called that. The male currently had the advantage as he had pinned the female's arms down on the sandy ground, until she kneed the man in the groin area, causing him to release his grip.

"Eyes front," Ovosh could hear the high voice of Victor whisper, and she immediately followed his advice, taking her eyes off of the brawl that the others in the town were apparently ignoring.

"Best if you don't make eye contact with anyone for too long. Some people take stares a bit too seriously." Victor suggested, again in a whisper that cut through the noise of the town.

Ovosh attempted to keep her eyes on Oriko's armored back, but this was in vain as she felt them wander once more. An aged man in tattered brown rags clutched a long piece of wood and a brown bowl in the other, holding it out and shaking it. A young woman was seated behind a wooden structure, forming a frame around her upper body. The top bridge displayed in substandard font,"Fresh produce". Upon the table were orbs of various shapes, sizes and colors. Two pre-adolescents ran across the opposite side of the road Ovosh, jeering and laughing at one another.

"Oi, pay attention!"

Ovosh turned to where the voice originated from, her right. The other three had entered the building, and were currently standing in the doorway. Ovosh had nearly walked past the entrance.

"Forgive me," she apologized. She backtracked and entered in the earthen structure herself. As she passed through the entrance, she blinked twice, for sunlight was now all but absent, leaving the dark dank details to slowly come into focus.

While the building she entered lacked the blinding sheen which resulted from the luminescence of the twin stars of the Capella system. But, there was light, in the form of contraptions that hung down from the ceiling. Ovosh also detected a noticeable mist in the air, smoke as identified by its inflammatory smell. The origin could be traced to several individuals in the room who held the same cylindrical objects in their mouths that the pirate leader used. Orange glows marked the end of these sticks, and the putrid emissions ascended into the air, forming a steamy blanket, highlighted by the ceiling lights.

Many tables occupied the space of the room. They appeared to be made from wood, and their manufacture was most likely far in the past. Many of the same individuals sat at these tables, behaving and appearing the same as the ones on the outside. No uniform formations, loud communication protocols, consuming amber and clear liquids, undisciplined walking techniques. Ovosh could sense another engagement, and peered to the far corner where a small gathering of individuals were screaming at the two most exuberantly.

There was nothing Ovosh could identify in the fight about the participants, their gender, their appearance, or even how many of them there were. She couldn't even see them. Yet, a part of her wanted to alter that.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, guiding her in a different direction. Ovosh recognized the hand belonged to the bulky figure of Oriko. She could not distinguish any particular intent upon the warrior's face, for it was obscured by her archaic helmet. Yet, Ovosh complied, and followed.

Percy could be observed opening yet another door. His walk was brisk as he entered it. He motioned sharply to the other three following him through the mess of humanity. Not losing her grip on Ovosh, Oriko slipped in swiftly, considerably for a being of her stature, pulling in Ovosh with her. Victor was the last to enter, his golden eyes surveying the scene in the room, before closing the door.

The room the group had entered was even darker than the comparatively vast area they had exited. There was a single light, hanging from the ceiling and barely flickering, threatening to obscure the four in utter darkness. Percy had pulled a device from his jacket, a small metal slab with several large buttons arranged rather haphazardly. By thumb, he began tapping some of them, which caused a section of the ground to slide away, revealing a staircase leading to darkness.

"Watch your step," Percy warned with a smirk, as began descending down the steps.

The rest of the group followed in single-file. Ovosh was the last one in, her eyes glued to the back of Victor's head so she would not lose track of her heading as what little light would be left would not help her maintain balance.

As the floor closed in above her, laboring slowly and causing dust particles to pepper the group, . Ovosh could feel her breathing quicken. Before long, the group lay in utter darkness. However, this was only temporary, as the underground hallway received a flood of illumination. The light source emitted from a device Oriko held, it's long slightly curved shape implying that it was her weapon. The blade itself, however, was not its usual steel grey color, but glowing bright gold, the same shade as the numerous ki attacks Ovosh had witnessed in her escape from Vega IV.

Now with the light source, Ovosh begun prodding along confidently as she followed the group. The light had revealed the dank, gritty dark walls that now enclosed the four as they advanced down the stretch of hall. After a few moments of naught but the steady padding of footsteps upon the dusty ground, they reached their destination. Standing in stark contrast to the desolate underground lay a rather smooth, elliptic pod, colored a light grey. Ovosh blinked upon observing something so clean and sleek in stark contrast to the underground cavern. Such an object appeared out of place, even on this particular planet.

Upon their approach, the pod emitted a loud beep, light fixtures embedded on what Ovosh assumed was the front, activating, indicating that the vehicle was active and ready. A fissure appeared in the side, transitioning into an entrance for the pod. The inside was as sanitary and simple as the outside. Were it not for some unnecessary stylistic embellishments and curved non-utilitarian seat design, she would have mistaken the pod as property of the Empire.

There was also something off about the pod, and it was soon revealed as it was occupied. Once the door to the pod was completely opened did the figure emerge, becoming fully visible. As Ovosh caught sight of it, her eyes widened and she let a small gasp escape. Whatever it was, it wasn't human.

The figure was clad in a navy blue sleeveless top, tucked into grimy, yet clearly grey baggy pants. His soft brown shoes made a subtle crunch as they rolled on the dusty ground of the cavern. Most potent of all, however, was his deep green skin, Upon his exposed arms, the skin changed from green and smooth, to bumpy and peach. Such limbs were clear beneficiaries of an active and strenuous lifestyle, The skin appeared strained to contain the bulging muscles from within.

His head was free of hair, and upon his brow lay two antenna flanking the center, pointing outwards, and bending down. But, the most frightening feature of the man, if Ovosh could even identify him as one, were his piercing eyes. Nothing ascetically about the small black pupils against almost immaculate whites were initially disconcerting. It was how his brow had scrunched over them, how his face was tilted down. There was no doubt that he was glaring at her as if he was trying to burn a hole through her heart.

"What a surprise Phonium," Percy commented, breaking the stressful silence. The black pupils veered off of Ovosh, who let out a small exhale, and were now focused on Percy.

"What's there to be surprised about?" the being Percy called Phonium replied most bluntly, little inflection could be detected in his low clear tone.

"Eh, nothing," Percy retracted, "I'd thought we were big boys now. We don't need an escort back to the base."

"Yes, but the base itself requires this. Honestly, you should know this," Phonium growled, "I don't want any criminals or spies ..."

Upon the mention of "spies", Ovosh felt the black orbs veer towards her direction, before darting back to Percy.

" ... discovering our base's location. That would be disastrous."

Percy's eyes darted back towards Ovosh, aware of Phonium's small gesture. He then shrugged as the green-colored being turned back towards the pod, his form swallowed up by the entrance. The captain followed shortly after, followed by Oriko.

Ovosh remained rooted in place. The demon's obsidian eyes had been etched into the wrinkles and folds of her gray matter. There was pressure on her right shoulder, but she did not turn to confirm the source. The pressure became volatile, with her shoulder experiencing sharp periodic increases. She did not address this.

A shout of "Ovosh!" courtesy of Victor's high voice finally snapped her out of her fixation. At last, she did turn, and as she abandoned the harsh staring contest of her mind's specter, she felt her muscles relax.

"Are you alright?" Victor asked. Ovosh pondered for a moment, before nodding. Victor shot her a worried look as Ovosh began making her way towards the pod. Her feet struggled to move, despite her progress, as if her nervous system was bogged down.

"Who ... what is that?" she whispered to Victor, making sure to keep extra close to him so he could hear her words. She observed Victor flinch due to her proximity.

"Phonium. No worries, he's on our side." he returned ,in a nervous, hurried whisper, "You Imperial folk probably never even heard of a Namekian before."

"Indeed," Ovosh immediately agreed, "I admit, his appearance is rather frightening. It is of little wonder the Emperor has identified any non-terran species as demons."

It was Victor this time who brought her into closer proximity. Ovosh could feel the heat emanating from his body, which contributed to the increased temperature in her cheeks. His eyes, however, were solely focused on the pod, which was awaiting their arrival. After a moment had passed, and he appeared to be satisfied, he responded in a hushed voice, "You gotta be careful with Phonium around, especially when using words like that. Namekians have very good hearing."

Ovosh's eyes widened upon realization, but she had little time to reflect as Victor hurried her to the pod, as he imagined that the rest inside, especially Percy, were getting impatient. Ovosh took a seat next to Victor on the impractically soft, yet smooth seats. Percy took the opposite side, flanked by Oriko, and Phonium. His eyes were still dead-locked on Ovosh.

The door automatically slid shut, and sudden acceleration jerked the occupants in the vehicle. The rusted railing, contrasting with the almost pristine pod, provided a bumpy experiance which made Percy's attempt to rest his poofy-haired head on Oriko's massive shoulders nearly impossible. And, despite all the turbulence and disruptions the pod experienced, not for one second, did Phonium take his eyes off of Ovosh. While the conditions of the pod prevented complete concentration, she could not even recall a time when he blinked.

...

Beyond the dreary and compact expanse of the town was naught but sand. The terrain was uneven, but mainly due to the flowing dunes of the great expanse. Under all this, did the singular pod travel. Soon, off in the horizon, a low cloud could be observed. If one were to inspect more closely, the cloud was clearly composed of sand particles. In its proximity, as well spread throughout the desert, various parts and machinery lay scattered, partially buried by the soft terrain. The magnificent winds ensured that unique parts would be uncovered, while others would join their brethren under the desert sea.

The location of the underground pod meant that the sandstorm did not affect it in the slightest. However, after a few miles, it's underground location was not a necessity. The rail had begun to form a steady incline, andpod began ascending. It's smooth round shape became visible from the surface, as the rail had now settled upon the sand.

In the distance, a structure indicating intelligent lifeforms slowly became visible. The structure was similar in manufacture to the pod. It's material was reminiscent of Imperial construction, smooth and white. It's center mass, however, was a domed structure, lacking any sharp utilitarian corners. Small, narrow widows lined the side, covering the circumference of its section.

A second, smaller, elliptical structure appeared connected to it by a thin white cylinder which was partially obscured by sand. As the pod closed distance with the building rather rapidly, Ovosh could make out other structures near it, transparent prisms that showed a darker terrain neatly lined with green, lush soil for vegetation. Ovosh could also observe several creatures of lower intelligence occupying other transparent structures surrounding the main ones. The purpose, she could not divulge right away. From her common studies, she recalled that Terrans had once relied on various non-sentient lifeforms for nutrition.

The pod circled to perimeter of the main dome, entering through an opening located on the opposite side of the neck of the building. A simple lift made up the entrance. Within the structure was a surprisingly large area which followed simple and utilitarian design philosophies. Several structural supports crisscrossed overhead upon the ceiling. Elevated platforms flanked the pod, with inclines leading to them in the front of the room.

Even from such a distance where they were several meters away from the entrance, Ovosh still discerned a layer of dust and discoloration. As such, despite similar design philosophies, she would not be able to mistaken the building from any of Imperial manufacture.

She felt the velocity of the vehicle began to decrease as it was swallowed up by the bay. Her eyes actively avoided becoming trapped by the the one who was identified as part of the species "Namekian". Despite this, she knew his black iris' were currently burning into her skull. Fortunately for her, another caught her attention. This individual occupied the docking bay, and, even from inside the pod, Ovosh could recognize as clearly Terran.

The individual in question was male, and clearly aged, as the color of his short, yet ruffled hair was losing, its golden shade clearly. It extended to the man's face in a neatly trimmed beard, that ended in a goatee that extended slightly out from his face. This facial dressing was accompanied with a substantial mustache, that blended into the man's beard. His eyesight appeared to be defective, for he required square-shaped optical lenses to correct his vision.

With a high-pitched screech, accompanied by a few orange sparks, the pod had begun to decelerate. Upon reaching a complete stop, Ovosh watched intently as the man walked briskly down from the elevated platform. He lacked the unconventional gait of Percy, nor the rigid intense stomp of Phonium. Her mind briefly wandered into the possibility that he was Imperial, though his unregulated facial expressions quickly dashed that possibility. A movement in the pod caught her attention; Victor was shrinking in his seat. He had remained still for the duration of the trip, but the reason for this sudden change in posture was unknown.

A small hiss emitted from the hydraulics of the pod door as it opened, revealing the man standing directly outside. A small, warm smile and a benevolent glow from the man's blue eyes did calm Ovosh's nerves, and for but a moment, she could forget the big green xenos that sat opposite of her.

"Welcome," he announced in a smooth, calm voice, "When I received your transmission after you arrived in the system, you don't know how many beats my heart skipped ..."

"Don't overreact old man," Percy countered, though his smile suggested this rather course dialogue was in good jest, "We've been on far more dangerous ops."

"Yes," the man sighed, adjusting his optical lenses, his eyes briefly closed, "But not with Victor ..."

"Oh come on Dad!" Ovosh could hear Victor shout, her head darting in his direction, observing with great confusion, the mechanic's bewildered look, "I've been working with the _Iceni_ for six years! I've been with Percy on missions for two!"

"True, true... " acknowledged the father, "But not in GTE territory ..."

Victor's shoulders visibly shrank, and an exasperated exhale was expelled from between the boy's lips.. Such was the air pressure that it disturbed the flailing bangs covering the boy's forhead. Upon his return to a turbulent state, Ovosh quickly turned round.

"Do not be so excited over this man's comments," Ovosh warned, as the violent sea of emotions had threatened to grow into a typhoon. Her hand moved to Victor's shoulder, but a conflicting thought entered her mind, and she retracted it. "He appears to be satisfied upon our safe return. That is enough cause for joy."

"Yeah but..." Victor attempted to counter, but a harsh cold voice opposite of the two in to pod cut into Victor's response.

"We can bicker all you want about your parental issues," Phonium spat, "But I would prefer if you would do it outside the pod. And surely, Reitoko would want to inspect our new ... acquisition."

The last word sent an uncomfortable growl through Ovosh's gut. She felt her brow furrow, as her insides began to heat up. Her jaw was beginning to tighten. This time, she did not avoid Phonium's glare as she turned back, her brown eyes darting to meet his black ones. Very little could be heard, except the stray blow of desert winds as both individuals struggled for occular dominance.

A single word, uttered from Phonium's mouth, loud as a whisper, broke the silence, " _Move._ "

Ovosh decided to oblige, exiting the pod, each step feeling heavy. It felt as if her feet could break through the metal floors of the docking bay, despite their apparent sturdiness. There was no other comment, at least from Phonium or herself, as all began moving towards the ramp. Past the ramp, upon the elevated platform, lay a simple grey door, the sheen of it's metallic construction reflecting some of the overhead incandescent lamps.

The man who had greeted them was the one to open the door. Revealed behind it, was a small hall way with primitive fluorescent-based illumination lining the ceiling. The walls of the hall were rather jagged and earthen, unlike the clean modular appearance of the structure they currently resided in. She could sense conversation between Percy and the man, even though her focus remained on her heavy footfalls, and the steady gaze of Phonium upon the back of her neck. There was no need for her to turn around to confirm this.

"Reitoko has called for a meeting once he heard of you arrival," the man mentioned to Percy, who had to maintain a brisk pace in order to stroll alongside the white-coated man.

"That's a given, he wants to see what we got out of all these months of planning surveillance and sacrifice." Percy responded rather glumly. The man shot back a knowing glance.

"I guess ... " he pondered, turning ahead. Percy squinted his eyes, attempting to determine the machinations of the man's mind.

"You guess what, Doc?" Percy inquired, scrunching his nose, "What's on that oh-so intelligent mind of yours?"

"For your information," the so-called doctor answered back most grudgingly, "I'm an engineer, not a doctor. If you want to peer inside a doctor's mind, ask the Misses."

"But now that you mention the subject of my mind," he continued, adjusting the frames of his glasses once more, "I have to say ... was it worth it? Is Reitoko truly right to bank our salvation on this one child?"

"You questioning Reitoko's judgment or mine?" Percy inquired, this time he was the one who was narrowing his eyes.

"Both," the man answered curtly, "Reitoko for the plan, you for the candidate."

"With all due respect," Percy explained, "I don't know if I chose our lord and savior. I do know that we got a pretty fuc-"

The man held up a hand. From his own perspective, it was obstructing Percy's mouth, despite being nowhere near it. "Not in front of my son," he growled, after showing the gesture."

" _Freakin'_ " Percy emphasized, as the man rolled his eyes. "Freaking powerful fighter. At least potential-wise. I don't think Kei could've taken on an Imperial overseer without any training."

Their pace down the hall had gradually slowed. Oriko remained silent and steady, now clutching her helmet at her side. Her eyes were calmly shifting between each member of the group. Ovosh was sticking close to the front, behind the man with the white coat, with Victor alongside her, shifting between closing in on Ovosh, and staying away from his father. Phonium brought up the rear, and had gradually fallen behind, and left a good six feet between them. _He could trail at a greater distance if he so desired_ , Ovosh postulated, with much anticipation.

"Now uh.." she heard a voice ahead of her stutter. It was the man in the white-coat, and he had turned his head back to her direction. The rest of his body followed, as he had realized this was a rather awkward way to walk, and began making his way down the hall in reverse. White double doors could be seen at the end of the hallway, which Ovosh had just noticed, but was now focused on the man.

"I'm sorry for my manners. We really shouldn't be gossiping about your worth and potential, and all these other dehumanizing subjects. Especially in front of you ..."

The man's voice trailed off, and as such, her mind meandered upon the missing phrase. Ovosh leaned in, expecting him to complete the phrase.

"Name," Ovosh heard Percy say, despite the fact that the captain did not turn to face her as well, but had continued his stroll down the hallway uninterrupted.

"What?" Ovosh asked, feeling a small bit of perspiration covering her face.

"You two haven't been introduced. He wants to know your name."

"My name," Ovosh stated, as confusion transformed into clarity. Widening her eyes, she nodded her head ever so slightly, "Forgive me, I couldn't discern your meaning. My name is VEG- , disregard that, my name is Ovosh."

"Pleasure to meet you," the man smiled, holding out a hand. Ovosh stared at the hand, expression blank. Meanwhile, the man's eyes had gone a bit wide, and he lost some of the color in his face. But this lingered for only a second. A small smile formed upon his lips as his pace towards the back door, to which the group had almost reached, slowed tremendously.

"My name is Travis, but people around here call me Mr. Smitter, even though we're all adults here. Victor over here calls me 'Dad', as he should ..."

As he said this, his arm extend once more, this time directing a finger at Victor. There was visible recoil in the young mechanic's body. He slowly turned his face away.

Ovosh's eyes once more darted between the two, back and forth. The finger from Mr. Smitter loosened, and he pulled away, chuckling. The chuckle was soft, subtle and broken. He then cleared his throat, adding on, "I guess we'll move on to a less embarrassing subject, if we all don't mind."

"Don't mind at all, _Dad,"_ Victor spat out, between his teeth. From the way his mouth was positioned, Ovosh could swear the boy was smiling, though his tone suggested otherwise.

"Good," the man firmly said, then turned to the end of the hall, which incidently, the group had reached. All that was left was the brown rickety double doors, leading to where only the Emperor knew.

"All that's left for us is for you to meet Reitoko," he explained. Ovosh assumed he was addressing her, therefore her stance stiffened.

"I just want to warn you, our leader's a pretty stern man, and a bit frightening. You have to be if your enemy is a Galactic Empire spanning most of the known galaxy. Don't worry too much though, he's a good person when you meet him."

"These past few hours have been rather frightening, " Ovosh acknowledged, "I believe I've adapted sufficiently."

The man chuckled, as he pulled down on one of the handles to the double-door. "We'll see."

As he pushed back the rickety wood, the bright halls met darkness. But that darkness soon gave way to the light, revealing a simple, rather claustrophobic room with a large, elliptical table in the middle, surrounded by chairs of various shapes and sizes. And the darkness revealed yet another lifeform. And as his form was revealed, Ovosh then knew, she was not ready.

Unlike the Namekian, this being's complextion was pale white. No visible clothing items adorned it. Upon his head and on his chest were sections of purple. His eyes were narrow, with pupils as small as the Namekian. Unlike the black orbs Phonium glared with, this being's eyes were pure red.

She gasped, "Another demon!" Almost immediately her mouth closed to trap the words within it. Her efforts, however, were for naught.

The cold red eyes appeared to register her reaction, as pale arms unfolded while the being spoke to her.

"Your concern is understood, believe me," he acknowledged in a high, yet refined voice. He began making his way towards the group, as Ovosh noticed a long white tail swaying behind him, and his tri-digit feet, which appeared to grip the sandy floor with every step.

"My people aren't exactly the most virtuous, but I must ask you to suspend your fear. I'm here to help."

The muscles in her body still remained tense, despite the being's declaration of benevolence. He sported a smaller build than the Namekian, yet many of the uncanny features the creature possessed made him even more frightening than Phonium. She could feel herself backing away from the creature as he advanced in the dark room.

Ovosh was bumped on the side. Her head snapped around to see who it was, only to discover the perpetrator was Victor. His eyes were filled with fright, which initially confused Ovosh, as she did not consider her actions, at least for the past few minutes, particularly frightening.

"It's alright," he assured, his voice a low whisper, though he still wore a petrified expression, "But it's a bad idea to get on Raitoko's bad side."

Ovosh's eyes widened upon hearing this, and looked back to the creature, who maintained his icy demeanor. Words struggled to escape her mouth, as she could feel the collective gaze of the group upon its newest member.

"You are the one they were talking about," she whispered, though the short creature indicated that he comprehended her, "You are their leader?"

"Indeed," the creature called Reitoko responded. Upon his dark lips, a small smile formed, though Ovosh knew not whether to relax, or be on guard because of this.

Reitoko continued, "Despite appearances, I do want to assure you that none of us, nor the organization Z, is affiliated with the Planet Trade Organization. We don't require, nor desire an alliance with them."

Upon the last part of his explanation, Reitoko's tone took a noticeably darker tone. Looking around, Ovosh could tell that the rest of the group, save for Phonium looked relatively on edge.

"As interesting this talk about possible alliances with the PTO," Percy butted in, snapping out of his relatively nervous expression, every feature of his body loosening, and running a hand through his poofy hair, "Shouldn't we bring the kid up to speed? And what are we doing about training her? The soonest we can get her to see action would be at least 6 months, and that's with a speed course. Way I see it, 'specially with the Empire on the move-"

Percy was cutoff, but not verbally. Reitoko simply lifted a pale, dark-nailed hand. This action immediately ceased all noise from Percy's mouth. He physically backed off, bowing his head slightly.

"I'm aware of your concerns, and they shall be addressed," Reitoko icily replied. Ovosh could catch a shift in Reitoko's own red eyes, as it darted towards one direction, but it was only briefly, as the beady orbs settled in on Ovosh herself.

"What I'm interested, here and now ... Ovosh was it?"

"Yes," the girl replied to the question, the immediate transition catching her off guard a bit.

"Ah, yes. Sorry, I heard from Percy once your ship jumped in the system. It's been a couple hours, and I'm not the greatest at names."

The creature cleared his throat, then began walking towards the back of the room, to the head of the table, hands behind his back, and his posture straight, "This day must have been quite a trip for you. I reckon you haven't had much time to consider some critical questions, no?" As he finished his question, he paused, tilted the smooth round head of his back, eyes focused on Ovosh.

"No sir ... I ..." Ovosh stopped to ponder. She did have some time to rest in the ship, and some time to have a couple of pleasant chats with Victor. Reitoko, however, quashed all hopes of coming up with a comprehensive answer.

"Not to worry," he assured, and resumed his walk towards the head of the table. "I was truly wondering, however, why do you want to fight the Empire?"

The question itself appeared to send a jolt through everyone, as if no one expected the question. Yet, Reitoko took a seat, apparently oblivious to the visible reactions. All eyes were on Ovosh now, Percy looking rather concerned, yet the relative dullness of his eyes suggested a relaxed state. Victor on the other hand, looked rather aghast, his eyes darting between Reitoko and Ovosh. Mr. Smitter mimicked his son in his reaction, on a smaller scale however. Oriko had maintain a neutral expression, but there was tightness in her jaw.

And of course, Phonium had redirected his threatening gaze to Ovosh once more. The black pupils were more searing than ever in their intensity, far greater than the overseer's bean through her shoulder could ever muster. Her internal temperature began rising upon this discovering, the gentle flames of the dormant rage inside her slowly awakening from its slumber, as Ovosh glared right back this time at the offending Namekian.

"Why shouldn't I desire to fight the Empire?" she spat, still facing Phonium who showed no visible reaction.

"Decisions to fight home and country are not easy ones. Certainly not ones you can make in the spur of the moment," Reitoko challenged.

"You are correct in the assumption that the decision was not entirely mine," Ovosh responded, rage slightly coercing her speech patterns. "My overseer made that decision."

At this, she placed her left hand upon her right shoulder, remembering the searing pain, the approaching darkness as life slowly escaped her. Memory only served to strengthen her conviction.

"Yes, I'm sure that it was hard being used as a tool for the Empire," Reitoko sympathized, his tone softening. "But ..."

Ovosh broke her glare from Phonium, sensing a shift in Reitoko's speech.

"You shouldn't be so hasty to make yourself my tool."

A audible exhale shot through Ovosh's mouth. Her mind began racing, as she sharply turned back to Reitoko's direction, expression aghast.

"What could you possibly mean by that?" she asked. Breath was laced in her voice, as her heart-rate became swift and skin became cold.

"Do know what we are fighting for?" Reitoko pressed. His narrow eyes became even more so. "Do you care what we are fighting for?"

The girl's mouth opened, but no sound was uttered. Her eyes darted around, searching the grey and brown walls for answers to the particular query . Why indeed did he put forth such a peculiar question? Shouldn't it be clear why she should fight? Why did she want to fight?

Her train of thought was cut off when Reitoko cleared his throat, the gutteral sound echoing through the room. "You look confused. You know it is the ultimate goal of Z to destroy the Empire and everything it stands for. Up until now, you've been a loyal citizen. I understand you weren't given much time to think. But now, you've gotten that time. Are you sure you wish to take up arms against a faction that, up until now, has nurtured your every need?"

"They tried to kill me," Ovosh said, surprised that she could now hear a low growl blending with her voice. She stared straight into Reitoko's red eyes, expecting to get the same discriminating glare that had beholden the Namekian's. But, none of those things did could she observe. The eyes were indeed piercing, as if probing her own for any hidden secrets. Ovosh, however, never gleaned the impression that Reitoko had already closed her off. Instead, something else existed, something else was there. Curiosity? It was hard to tell.

"That they did. And so, you wish to kill them." Reitoko acknowledged, his voice still cold and cutting, "Do you know what that entails? The Galactic Terran Empire controls nearly two-thirds of the known galaxy, from Vega, to Ross 128, all the way to Sol. To completely decimate the Empire, we must break their military and political power. A military that has reduced the Planet Trade Organization to a shadow of its former self. A military, that despite some philosophical gripes, possesses some of the galaxy's finest warriors. If you wish to fight for us, torment, pain and suffering are your future. Your training for this war will be unpleasant as well. Happiness, joy, and any other comfort in life will be in short supply should you choose this path."

Silence followed, but Ovosh could clearly comprehend what Reitoko said. She did not know completely, the meaning, nor his intentions for saying such things. She wasn't the only one however.

"Reitoko," growled the low voice of Percy, who had stepped forward. His companion Oriko, from whom he had separated from had slightly widened her eyes, and was looking ever intently at him.

"What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to scare the kid away? After all the work we did? After Kei's sacrifice?"

The creature's eyes shifted onto Percy as he said this. Reitoko's expression did not change, though he did fold his arms.

"I want young Ovosh to know what exactly she is signing up for. Yes, if she should turn away from the fight, it will be costly. If she can't handle the hardships that come with fighting for us, or even worse, becomes disillusioned with our purpose, then you will all wish she had turned away when she had the chance."

Seeing that Percy lacked an immediate response, Ovosh saw a small smirk appear on his face. It quickly vanished, replaced with the same neutral frown he had worn before as the crimson orbs shifted their attention back to Ovosh.

"All I am saying, is if you don't want to fight for us, there is a way out. I can't exactly make your life the same it was before you were abducted by us, but I can ensure that you will at least be away from most of the fighting."

Ovosh's eyes narrowed. She once again felt her insides beginning to burn up. But she did not know why she was angry. Reitoko's explanation seemed sound. And while she couldn't even attempt to conjure any loyalty to the Empire, she understood that conflict, at least direct conflict with it seemed too perilous a task for a former power plant worker of Vega IV.

She knew why, she didn't _desire_ to be left out of the fight. Any thought of it caused her insides to churn most unpleasantly, as if the mere thought of running away from the fight was putrid and disgusting.

"I want to fight," she affirmed. Her right hand, which had lain limp at her side earlier had now balled into a clenched fist. So forceful was her grip on thin air, that her fist began to shake.

"Dr. Smitter is responsible for our agricultural operations. You will be still serving us, but you won't have to deal with ..."

"I WANT TO FIGHT!" Ovosh shouted. The table shook from this declaration, and for a moment, the creature's eyes widened, making his already small pupils appear even smaller. She could see nearly every occupant in the room back away from her, which made her regret her forceful delivery of her intent. But the man, or whoever this creature was, Reitoko, needed to know the extent of her resolve.

After gathering himself, Reitoko closed his eyes, and began to breathe deeply. The few moments that passed by of him doing this seemed to span on into eternity, as he contemplated various things.

"So be it," he answered.


	5. The Key to Victory

It was at that moment that the various members of Z had decided to stop mulling about and finally take a seat. At the center of the table, opposite of the entrance, Reitoko had taken his seat. On his right sat Percy, Victor, Ovosh, and Mr. Smitter. On his left were Oriko and Phonium.

The cool metal seat slid across the dark floor with a distinct screech as Ovosh pulled it back. Her face felt hot, for she knew the direct gaze of the Namekian was on her. A small wave of relief washed over her skin, as Mr. Smitter had kindly taken the seat between her and the Namekian.

As she directed her attention to the head of the table, mulling across its smooth black surface, she observed the curious sensation of the titanic warrior Oriko seated next to the diminutive Arcosian. Reitoko barely measured up to the formidable woman's chest. Yet, there was a significant presence he possessed, something that felt larger than the room itself.

Reitoko's red eyes scanned the room, but narrowed upon reaching the left of Phonium. The Namekian didn't move but a muscle as his gaze passed over him.

His discerning glare was then directed to Mr. Smitter, "Where is Laura?"

The man's expression melded into a slightly nervous smile, and the calm demeanor he expressed in the hall had been broken up with nervous stutters and backtracks. "Ah yes, ah ... Laura was busy when I had to go out to retrieve the others. But you should know my wife, she's also married to her work..."

A high-pitched chuckle punctuated his explanation, something that Ovosh imagined wouldn't have been too distinct from what Victor would have done.

Once the elder Smitter's guffaw had ceased, a door opposite to the main entrance swung open. Behind it entered a woman in a long white coat. This coat featured several wrinkles and discolorations that distinguished it from the immaculate crispness of typical Imperial dress. Its sparse array of buttons were not utilized, revealing a faded blue button-up shirt framed by the white flaps of the coat. Her pants were loose-fitting, black, and her feet were covered with ragged black shoes. The woman herself possessed faded brown hair tied neatly into a bun. Her most distinctive feature were eyes, bright gold, brimming with an almost metallic luster.

"Impeccable timing honey," Mr. Smitter commented, as the woman began making her way towards Reitoko's left. She walked steadily, yet briskly as her long legs propelled her to seat in mere moments. Next to the Namekian she sat, but her eyes remained upon Mr. Smitter as she settled down.

"I try." she said in a neutral, yet breathless tone, "The new batch of senzu beans we possess have entered their last days of maturation. Once that's done, I'll begin cultivating genetic material for a new..."

"Forgive me," Reitoko interrupted, clearing his throat once more, "Your work Dr. Smitter, is fascinating, as well as critical for us, but I have called this assembly for reasons other than your botanical pursuits, no disrespect intended."

"Ah, yes, I see," the one called Dr. Smitter replied. Her whole body slowly sunk into her chair, and her eyes averted the Arcosian. The other Smitter let out a small chuckle, commenting, "Don't worry Laura, you can share me the intimate details of your work after the meeting." This had the effect of the woman glaring at Mr. Smitter, before a small smile spread across her thin lips.

"Now then," Reitoko spoke, assuming a rather stern tone, "The business at hand is rather simple."

His crimson-tinged gaze now turned to Ovosh. The others in the room followed, as their collective attention focused upon the young woman. A cool metallic shiver traveled up her spine as her back braced against her chair, as the lip of the table had begun to rise up to meet her head.

"You appear to have a strong conviction to fight for us," Reitoko noted, "But, I must ask, do you know why we singled you out?"

Ovosh's mind began cycling. The Arcosian's voice possessed the sensation of small nails driving themselves into her chest. His glare could not match the intensity of the Namekian's, yet they shared the same quality as the Emperor Ovosh would no longer wake up to every morning. Aside from the identical shade in iris color, her brain felt as an open book, and Reitoko was meticulously absorbing every page. In the Arcosian's eyes, she saw the answer to his question before she even opened her mouth.

"Kei..." she murmured. The soft utterance of the dead man caused Victor 's gaze to drop towards his fiddling hands, resting uncomfortably in his lap. This went unnoticed by Ovosh, as she spoke up, "I remember, back at the power plant on Vega IV. Kei. He said why. He mentioned a power I possess. A power he claimed would reshape the galaxy. I do not know of this power, I must confess, nor do I..."

"That's the basic gist," Reitoko interrupted. His eyes closed, his head bowed slightly and shook. A small clicking noise was heard, the source was Reitoko's mouth as he exclaimed in a sadistic mixture of humor and sadness, "Ahhh Kei, poor unfortunate Kei. Never good with the details were you?"

His head remained bowed. Percy was giving Reitoko the most peculiar look, before letting out a small chuckle and laying back in his chair. Victor had still not raised his head, while Phonium, Mr and Dr. Smitter and Oriko, remained unmoved by Reitoko's comment.

After a couple of moments passed, Reitoko's purple-domed head remained bowed. Ovosh inquired rather nervously, "Um ... sir?"

This caused the leader's head to snap back up, and for him to emit a small chuckle of his own. "Forgive me, I was just ... I was just reminiscing."

"-But let's not stray off-topic shall we?" he added. Ovosh nodded.

"Kei has given you the basic idea, but that's really not all there is to it." The Arcosian had straightened up his posture, which did not distract from his diminutive stature. His voice became measured, stained by hints of nostalgic passion as he began explaining to Ovosh the method behind his madness.

"We, the organization Z, are an ancient legacy, a legacy that predates the Galactic Terran Empire. Before humanity took to the stars, Z was a collection of warriors dedicated to protecting the Terran homeworld, Earth."

"Unbeknownst to you, Ovosh, part of that legacy flows in your blood."

"My blood?" asked Ovosh. She raised her right arm. Her brown eyes briefly scanned it, mesmerized by its fair shade. The woman's eyes squinted, futilely attempting to gaze past the veil of skin into the multitude of vessels below.

"In a way," answered Reitoko, causing Ovosh to snap up. Upon the black lips, a small smile began forming. "I know you've been a few hours removed from the Empire, but do try not to take much of what I say literally?"

His request was met with a nonchalant, "Affirmative," on Ovosh's part. Reitoko then resumed.

"Of these warriors, there were two of whom were quite special. They were easily the most powerful warriors Z possessed at that time, and would compete against each other endlessly. But they ..."

As Reitoko said this, the same sly smile appeared once again upon his lips, "…Were not Terrans."

The slow mulling pattern of breathing Ovosh had maintained now began to hasten. Curious suggestions formed at the back of her mind as to what Reitoko was implying.

"These two hailed from a formidable warrior race, although in many respects, they could pass as human. This race was on the brink of extinction at that time and all but gone now. It was rumored that their home planet was destroyed by a solar anomaly. No matter, the primary advantage these two possessed was a power that gave them brilliant golden auras, and increased their fighting prowess 200 times of that before."

He paused upon seeing Ovosh's eyes widen. Reitoko then leaned in, head cocked forward. "You know of this, don't you?"

Ovosh shook her head, "I ... I don't know if what I've seen is what you describe. But there is something ... something ..."

The Arcosian's eyes lit up as Ovosh's voice trailed into the cool air, "I have no doubt then. The legacy of these Golden Warriors lives in you. In your blood flows awesome power that could one day eclipse the fiercest warriors this galaxy has to offer. This is why we chose you."

Ovosh sat back, her eyes staring into space. They looked past the grey dreary ceiling, the sun-blasted sky, into the tomb of space. Perhaps even past the eternal veil, her lineage would be staring straight back at her.

From her trance held tight by eternity, she uttered "I'm not human?"

Reitoko shook his head, "Not completely human. The last of this warrior race died with those two. However, they were apparently genetically compatible with Terrans. They produced offspring, half-breeds. I don't know how much of you is human and how much is not, but one thing is for sure. You are very fortunate to be living right now. The Galactic Terran Empire has made it a policy to weed out the legacy of the Golden Warriors. It puzzles me how you managed to slip past the screenings. Perhaps it is destiny. Perhaps I overestimated the Empire's effectiveness. Whatever happened, you are here now."

"But," Ovosh interjected, "How? How did you know? How did you choose me from the billions of others to join you?"

"That," Reitoko answered with a smirk, "Is my little secret. I will say this, the Empire isn't the only one with spies. I've got a few of my own. The finer details, I don't believe you need to know."

"I hope I've satisfied you with some tidbits about yourself. Now ..." he continued. His high refined voice trailed off, and he became the epicenter of an irresistible pull that had snared the attentions of all in the room.

"As you train Ovosh, I want you to keep some of our objectives in mind. The Empire appears to raise a lot of fuss about us, as we've seen from the Emperor's fun little daily announcements. The truth is, while we do have an effective intelligence network thanks to..."

Reitoko nodded towards Percy, who did not return the favor. He was breathing heavily, sporting half-lidded eyes and a listless, open mouth. The Arcosian rolled his own and continued, " ... numbers-wise, we are the smallest of the organizations and cartels in Capella. Capella, as many of you at the table know, is the only unaligned system with habitable planets. Our current goal is attempting to rally the system to our cause. Unfortunately, all the other organizations aren't so willing to join us. This is troublesome as they possess many resources and personnel that would be of great help in our fight. "

A loud exhale could be heard, the source emitted from Percy. His eyes were wide open, littered with streams of red, as if they had recovered from being shut. They then darted around, before he adjusted himself in his seat and straightened his blue jacket, which had become ruffled in the process.

Reitoko's brow furrowed, as an intense glare burrowed into the indifferent expression of the captain, "You know, Ovosh isn't the only one who needs to know this information. Pay attention!"

Percy let out another strong exhale before explaining with a sneer, "Well, forgive me if I'm not drawn in by your dulcet tones."

The Arcosian's eyes remained narrowed on Percy, who had not bothered to give even the appearance of investment. Reitoko's irises looked as if they were to roll up into his head, before refocusing on Ovosh.

"Despite the good captain's lack of engagement here, he was right about one thing," Reitoko admitted.

"And what is that?" Ovosh inquired.

"Your training process will need to be accelerated if our plans are to be put in motion. The loss of Kei leaves us with only Phonium, Oriko and I as the primary fighting force of Z. While small, I consider each of us to be among the planet's best fighters. Despite this, quality must be supported by at least some respectable quantity. Z cannot sustain itself with such a sparse core."

"Of course," Reitoko added on, while giving Percy, Victor and his parents rather amicable glances, "Our support system has never been better, despite inability to consistently participate in group meetings."

At this last phrase, he shot Percy an accusing look. He did not reciprocate. The Arcosian rolled his eyes once more. Ovosh had taken the time to scan across the table. Victor's eyes were darting between her and Reitoko, Mr and Mrs. Smitter did the same, while also sneaking glances between one another. Oriko bore no expression, exhibiting Imperial-like composure at the table.

And there was Phonium, who had resumed giving Ovosh piercing glares, paying no heed to his leader. The mere sight of this once more incited the boiling of blood, blood that had been outed as not entirely human. This contest was held until Ovosh decided to break away, for Reitoko was a far more amiable and important engagement. _Has he even relented in this contest?_

"That will be all for now," Reitoko concluded, a slight twitch in his left eye was apparent to some at the table. Despite this, he continued, "Tomorrow Ovosh, you go to work. For the rest of the day, I suggest you rest, as well as fill up on nutrition. That will be crucial for your training."

"Understood," Ovosh acknowledged. Percy, out of the corner of her eye, had shaken himself awake. The captain cast a playful gaze at Reitoko while sniggering in the most buffoonish manner, "Anything I miss?" Reitoko blew out a puff of air in response to this, before standing up in his chair, turning away from the table. It appeared as if he was about to make his way out of the room, but he partially turned his head back. The Arcosian was not quite facing Ovosh, but it was clear he was addressing her.

"Since you've become a bit more familiar with them, I'll have Percy show you to your quarters. It is nearing supper time in this timezone. Therefore, after he's done showing you your quarters, he can prepare you something to eat." Ovosh could observe Percy's eyes narrowing at the Arcosion. He, however, took no further action.

The rest began to rise from the table. Unlike Imperial gatherings at tables, the individuals at this meeting did not rise all together in perfect unity. It was all a cluttered mess, some rose more slowly than others, some lingered in their chairs for a small while. The utter discord hindered her sense of balance, and she had to reserve a few seconds to gather herself as people began making their way out of the meeting room.

"Alright kid," the voice of Percy entered her ear, sporting the texture of sand-paper and the depth of an ocean. Ovosh turned to face him. The captain's lids were still weighting down heavily upon his eyes, and his teeth appeared slightly clenched. Despite this, upon making eye contact, did he sport a small soft smile.

"Reitoko decided that since my attention span isn't real long-lived during exposition, I'm on babysitting duty," he lamented, all the while, maintaining the playful grin. "Follow me."

Accompanying them both were Victor and Oriko, flanking Ovosh as she followed Percy. They entered the same door Dr. Smitter had entered. The area it led to was not a hallway, but an open room. Several seats were arranged in disorganized pattern; some possessed viewing displays directly in front of them. On the far side of the room, several ceiling mounted storage compartments were directly over a simple metal counter, featuring several curious devices on the center of it. There were various vessels, what they contained Ovosh only could speculate, stacked haphazardly on the top of this counter.

She felt a bump from behind. With the torque almost sufficient to snap her neck, she whipped around, only to face the sheepish, nervous grin of Victor. He appeared rather irregular, as his usual fair-skinned face was now deep red. Upon this contact, Ovosh quickly slid away, bringing herself mere inches from the sweeping tails of Percy's long blue jacket. Following the event, she could have sworn she discerned several stifled chuckles emitting from the captain.

The group had made their way into a rather narrow hallway. The walls were lined with simply white material, providing contrast to the wood-colored doors. These doors were spaced evenly, and reminded Ovosh of the bunk area of the _Iceni_. She looked back, and saw that Oriko and Victor had formed a single-file line. Most noticeably, Oriko had to angle her shoulders to fit within the two walls.

Stopping at the second door to their left, Percy produced a small rusted gold key from the depths of his jacket. Dangling the object in front of Ovosh, he then slid the key into the lock located directly above the door knob. Various creaking noises could be heard, as if the door was whimpering in pain from attempting to be opened.

What lay within appeared more expansive than the _Iceni's_ compact bunks. There were doors embedded to the right side of the room, presumably for additional storage. The bed still contained plain gray sheets and pillows, not much different from her dwelling in Vega IV. A white florescent light, which Percy flicked on with much ceremony, was the only source of illumination within the room.

"Drop off your stuff here," Percy suggested. Ovosh looked around; she carried nothing but her Imperial citizen clothes. She searched her pockets to confirm her assumption. When the search came up empty, Ovosh concluded that she possessed nothing to store in the room.

Victor, meanwhile, gave Percy a rather ridiculous glance, mouthing off some words to him in the process. Percy saw fit to imitate his Arcosian better, rolling his eyes as he quipped, "Yeah, whatever."

"Now," Percy grinned, patting his stomach, "I don't know about you kid, but rescuing you, running away from Imperial goons, meeting some pirates, and sitting through a dull meeting has made me hungry, what do you say?"

"I don't know what to say," Ovosh replied, giving Percy a confused look. Percy returned her look in kind, and upon seeing the familiar expression of bewilderment on Percy's face, she added on, "Is this another one of those non-Imperial formalities I missed?"

"It's no big deal," reassured Victor. While Ovosh was aware of Victor's presence behind her, his voice still caught her off guard. She turned around abruptly, surprising Victor in turn, and garnering few reactions.

" ... Ah," he stuttered, caught off guard by Ovosh's sudden reaction, "Well, what Percy was trying to say, is ... uh ... do you need nutrition?"

The question evoked a growl from the depths of Ovosh's gut. As her legs moved, there was sluggishness that she had not felt before. In a burst of realization, she confirmed with Victor, "Indeed, I do require nutrition."

"Excellent," Percy exclaimed, patting his stomach. He made his way past Ovosh, tussling Victor's hair on the way, who did not appear amused. Oriko was single-highhandedly blockading the doorway, and realized too late that the captain now sought the exit. In some strange manner, Percy slid past her, as if made from a elastic material.

Oriko managed to relieve the door way as she carefully slid her way back down the hallway. Ovosh and Victor were close behind, neither able to catch the opening to the room the captain had vanished off to.

...

The dark sanctuary was still occupied, despite the fact that the meeting was adjourned. Still in their seats were Reitoko and Phonium. While they had not moved from their positions, their faces held intense intent upon them.

Reitoko opened his dark-lipped mouth, but the Namekian killed any hopes of him getting a word in.

"I know what you intend," he growled, holding up a green hand, "And I know this to be a foolish decision Reitoko, you know my feelings towards that... that ..."

As he struggled to come up with the proper words to finish his statement, his white teeth clenched, and the outline of veins could be seen pulsating on his forehead. The hand which had been held out to silence his leader was now clenched into an unforgiving fist, with pressure so high that the indent of bone and blood vessels lay sculpted upon the surrounding skin.

"And why do you harbor such feelings?" the Arcosian inquired. He was leaning in, his hands folded in front of his face, covering up his mouth. The red eyes had locked dead-on to the small black orbs of the Namekian.

But this didn't last for long, for Phonium averted his gaze. His body shifted away, visibly shrinking and even softening. His voice entered into a soft and dulcet whisper, territory nearly unexplored by him. "You know why."

"Indeed," Reitoko acknowledged, looking down at his folded hands. Despite the relative darkness of the room, his chalk-white skin was crystal clear to him. He took the moment to memorize every outline and wrinkle, consider every finger- every black-tinged nail.

"If we had more warriors, you wouldn't have to do this Phonium, but I have no choice." Reitoko explained.

Phonium had turned his glare back to the Arcosian, though Reitoko's hands had obscured his eyes from him. He could feel his brow furl.

"Why not Oriko?" Phonium suggested, "She appears to get along well with our newcomer."

Reitoko's eyes reverted from looking at his hands, back to Phonium. His glare had hardened as he observed that the Namekian was on guard once more, any traces of the vulnerability he showed before gone.

"Oriko has a communication problem, training would be unproductive. Ovosh requires clear and concise instruction at the pace she will be learning."

"Then why don't you train her?" suggested Phonium. His eyes narrowed and his head leaned forward. The black pupils were now piercing, two stark infernos burning all but the deepest, intimate, and secretive thoughts the Arcosian could hold.

Reitoko shook his head. For but a moment, his own stoic demeanor had vanished. In a voice that sported a raised pitch and a quivering cadence, he answered, "You know why I cannot train her. If I lead Ovosh down the same path as her, then we are all doomed."

Phonium closed his eyes in resignation. A loud, gritty exhale exited his nostrils. Mere oxygen was now a flame to his throat, a back-draft of something far more destructive that lay within. A line in the sands of Sanctuary had been drawn, or rather, rediscovered. It was a deep chasm, as such that no sentient creature could cross.

"You will only destroy yourself and us if you keep lingering on that wretch," he lamented, "But I will train this Imperial, for better, or for worse. Just know ..."

Phonium stood up from his seat abruptly. He moved so quickly that for a fraction of a second, he was but a faint green blur. No sooner than he had left his seat was he right in front of Reitoko. His face had leaned in so close to his leader's that the antennae on his brow were nearly brushing the smooth purple-domed head. Reitoko did not flinch, nor did he open his mouth in surprise or spite. He simply sat calmly as the Namekian gave him a stare that brimmed with such fury, were it like fire, the Arcosion would have been incinerated.

" ... Everything, every action, sin and offense this girl inflicts upon Z will be your failure," he seethed, red hot breath assaulting Reitoko's face.

"As will it be yours" he replied, his voice an arctic chill to counter Phonium's red-hot inferno.

The Namekian backed off, and stormed out of the room. Each footfall of the Z warrior sent small rumbles throughout the dark sanctuary. An equally thunderous thud of the door slamming closed signified his exit. It was only until then, did Reitoko's posture crumble. He leaned over the table, and buried his face in his hands.

...

A white shallow disk piled with various items smothered in pleasant aromatics was dropped enthusiastically in front of Ovosh. The sound it made as it collided with the aged wooden table she was currently seated at, was muted and clunky. A tall glass of creamy white liquid was now positioned to the top-right corner. Two tools used for gathering particularly troublesome items, identified as a fork and a knife, flanked the disk.

Ovosh had observed Percy producing the various items upon her plate. Some were processed from deceased lower lifeforms, others were harvested from the vegetation grown in the glass structures. The vegetation was identified by Victor and Percy as the vibrant green and orange items occupying the outskirts of the dish it was on.

The featured item was made from a dead animal. It was colored a deep brown. Sparse carbonation dotted its surface, which glistened with the fat content possessed by the creature. Despite doubting the nutritional value of the various "foods" on her "plate", there was a great desire to consume them.

"Oh, I know that look," sounded the surprisingly mellow voice of Percy. He had distributed to Victor and himself dishes of the same items, though they were noticeably quainter portions than what Ovosh possessed.

Momentarily distracted, Ovosh peered up, glaring at Percy. The man had already picked up both of his utensils. He had possessed a friendly sneer before the girl had glanced upwards. But, upon observing her expression, this sneer did loosen.

"What are you talking about?" Ovosh asked.

"I'm just saying," Percy responded, leaning back in his own blocky wooden seat, holding out both arms still possessing the utensils to the side. "I know when someone sees something delicious in front of them."

"Wha-" Ovosh began, but not before Victor interrupted, muttering, "Yeah boss, toot your own horn about your amazing cooking skills. You know, why couldn't I have made the food for Ovosh?" His expression was one of clear distraught.

"And why, may I ask, did you want to cook for Ovosh? Had something special planned?" Percy queried. As he inquired, he had leaned across the table with one eyebrow raised ever so distinctively. This caused Victor to back away in his seat, eyes wide.

"What are you looking at Perc?" Victor asked, in a rather aghast tone while struggling to balance his precariously-positioned chair. There was only so far the young man could lean back before it was in grave danger of capitulating to gravity.

Percy's eyes veered upwards for a moment, his index finger on his chin. His current victim had managed to avert disaster by catching the edge of the table to prevent his weight from carrying him even further back. By then, the captain resumed eye-contact of a mischievous variety towards Victor before cracking a small grin.

Before the boy could get a word in, however, he had quickly shifted his attention towards Ovosh.

"Well then kid, dig in, eat." Percy said, holding out a hand.

Ovosh's eyes moved down to the dish, then back to Percy. "Eat this?" she asked. The items looked distinctively different than the nutrition cubes she had used to consume. They took upon many shapes and colors, while the nutrition cubes were always square, and uniform in color. The girl almost unconsciously took the fork to the side of the dish, and began probing each item, the dark green shriveled shiny leaves giving way, leaking out green juice, contrasting with the sturdy orange items. She poked the item at the center, observing brown and red juice flowing out of the bottom of the cut of meat.

"Yeah, roast, spinach and carrots. Gotta load up on those vitamins and minerals for your training, not to mention protein," explained Percy. He had already consumed part of his own meat. Victor meanwhile was ravenously chewing on his own roast. The vegetables upon both of their plates were noticeably undisturbed. There was doubt in Ovosh's mind that the unprocessed nutrients within the items on the plate would be sufficient. A low rumble from her stomach dismissed this concern.

Her observations of Percy and Victor led her to conclude that the piece of dead animal on her plate should not be consumed whole, but in sections. She was able to replicate the sawing motion they both used with their knives. The meat was easier to cut than she anticipated. The accompanying juices that burst from affected sections, she found both grotesque and fascinating.

Percy and Victor watched ever intently as Ovosh stuck the fork, along with the piece of meat inside of her mouth. The animal was harder to break down than the soft nutrition cubes, but pleasant sensations were juiced from it as her teeth broke it down. Ovosh's eyes widened as the now-chewed meat entered her esophagus. Such a consumable was but a foreigner, an alien on a distant world undiscovered.

She cut once again into the slab on her plate, with far more ferocity and speed this time, and was able to consume the significantly larger piece of meat significantly quicker. Again and again did she dive into the meat, each successive time faster, until she was practically swallowing whole chunks. Seeing the meat was gone, leaving nothing but an insignificant puddle of desirable sauce, Ovosh focused on the vegetation, and was introduced to an entirely new dimension of flavors not found in the meat. The experience was less gratifying, but she found no reason to deny her stomach more nutrition.

A gaseous outburst emitted from her mouth, the low tone and high volume of it shocking her. She instinctively covered her mouth, only to find Percy chuckling, and Victor going red in the face once more. Exhaling slowly, she realized that both had barely made any progress in finishing their own nutrition.

Shrinking back into her seat, noting the few orange items left, she left her fork and knife on the plate. "I'm sorry," she apologized, though she knew not what for.

"I swear," Victor exclaimed, eyes wide, face still red, and sweating profusely, "I don't think ten seconds have passed."

"Yeah, a real keeper, isn't she?" Percy commented, eyeing Victor the entire time, flashing a rather predatory grin, and supporting his head upon his hand as his arm rested on the table.

"I'm sorry," Ovosh repeated, eyes darting between the two, "I didn't know I had consumed that quickly."

A puff of air escaped Percy's mouth, somehow relaxing some of the tension within Ovosh, "No worries kid, the only thing to apologize for is an unfinished plate. You gotta few carrots left."

Ovosh looked down at the "carrots" with their vibrant orange color. Her fork prodded the vegetables. She had found them the least desirable of the three groups of food on her plate.

Seeing her expression Victor added on, "Yeah, best if you eat those, they're good for your eyes."

Ovosh did not know if his claim was an exact science, but didn't get a chance to address that, as Percy interrupted, "Speak for yourself boy, there's going to be hell to pay if you don't eat all those leafy greens I painstakingly prepared for you."

Victor, clearly irritated by this comment, shot back, "Oh yeah? Well you're not my Dad! Besides, you didn't 'painstakingly' prepare these, you boiled them in a little bit of water and salt. I could've done that!"

Instead of countering Victor's statement, Percy let out a small chuckle and resumed gathering various pieces of food on his fork. Victor settled down in his seat, before taking a look and Ovosh and laughing nervously. Ovosh didn't know how to react, and resumed eating her carrots, which she found progressively difficult to chew.

...

Against the black dotted field of space, a blue shimmering subspace portal did open. Out from it emerged the smooth angular shape of the _Imperial Trinity_. The portal closed with a brilliant azure flash, as the craft picked up speed, the glowing white engine glow indicating the internal systems of the ship hard at work to make this possible.

The flawless sleek interior of the ship was shrouded in darkness. In the back of the expansive cockpit lay three pods, white in color with transparent tinted glass displaying each inhabitant.

An orange light blinked on the central pod, and the glass receded, as the young woman in Imperial military dress, Markova, awoke. In an instant, the eyelids had flashed open, revealing stark black pupils. Her procedure for getting out of the pod was sharp and regulated, as if she rehearsed a certain way of getting up. For a brief moment, she glanced at her other two companions, Bolshoy and Meya, still resting inside their pods. Her eyes did linger on Meya's pod, witnessing the older man breath make all but the slightest changes in his body.

She whipped around, marching to the seat on the right. Taking a seat, she proceeded to activate the control panel, bringing up the screen on it. Typing quickly, her eyes scanned through dozens upon dozens of files, until she found what she desired.

A finger over the simple icon labeled "VEG-8026". Touching it on the screen this file brought up several directory paths which she began serially looking through. Various items of information detailing their target flashed across the screen. However, she did pause as she clicked on a file, as it displayed the warning "Classification level: Psi".

Her eyes narrowed, and several blood vessels became visible upon her forehead. She dispensed with the warning, and a component above the screen protruded out. It possessed a wide opening, padded with a rubber-like substance. Inside, various laser lights could be seen, implying some sort of scanning functionality.

Markova positioned her head so that her eyes were aligned with the retina scanner. The rubber was warm from the several processors in the control panel. She grimaced in discomfort until it conformed to the contours of her head. The laser lights swept over the two black pupils of hers.

As the retina scanner receded, the screen flashed red, with the words "Access Denied" blazoned upon it's black veil. Markova grimaced with great annoyance, sitting back in her chair most violently.

"I do not suggest you continue, lest you wish to lose favor with the Emperor."

The chair swiveled around in an instant, as Markova's widened eyes and shocked expression were met with the stern, yet, unreadable face of Meya. He stood directly in front of his opened pod.

The effects of Markova's shock did not last long, as she gathered herself and questioned, "What are you doing out of your pod, Sword?"

"I would ask the Hand the same thing?" Meya cooly answered. He approached the Emperor's Hand, his face unmoving, and continued, "Did you hope to access classified documents under my nose?"

Markova did not back down from this question, declaring ,"I am the Emperor's Right Hand, and therefore, second in authority to the Supreme one himself. It is therefore I who should be asking if you hope to supplant that authority?"

Meya blinked, and a small smile began forming across the previously expressionless face. An unnerving sight indeed, after the Right Hand was so used to seeing her sword not even blink. His stern voice lowered in pitch and volume, as he cautioned, "Remember, you have no power over me, were it not given to you by the Emperor. You may have the authority, but you lack the clearance, at least until the Emperor deems you ready for it."

This left Markova scrunching her face in disappointment. Meya had resumed his neutral expression, and everything seemed back to normal.

"What information were you looking for anyways?" he inquired.

Markova's eyes did flutter, as she considered various options on how to approach her partner's question. She looked back at the screen, still reading "Classification Level: Psi". Behind the foreboding label was a diagram of the civilian they were after. She looked unassuming and nonthreatening enough.

Her eyes did not move from the screen as she confirmed, "I was learning about our target. I remember we were briefed upon the citizen's potential threat level, but nothing more. It was confirmed by the Emperor himself that we would receive additional information."

"And you doubt the Emperor?" suggested Meya, his voice once again low. Markova said nothing in response, narrowing her brow at Meya. The two maintained this for a few seconds, before the Sword decided to break of, closing his eyes.

"I believe he deems you ready." Meya breathed out, then walked past Markova, placing his head against retina scanner.

"Access Granted," was displayed on the screen in plain yellow colored text. Statistics, diagrams, graphs and even images began populating the once-sparse monitoring space.

"According to our charts, we have entered the Beta Aquilae system. From there we'll enter Vega which then leads to Capella. You have plenty of time to learn all there is to know about citizen VEG-8026. But I warn you ..."

Upon his warning did his stern face harden, and his face closed in on Markova's. The Hand shot back the same glare to Meya, holding another visual contest for dominance.

"... question the Emperor's authority again, and you will truly see how pathetic you are without his guidance." Meya then walked back slowly towards his hibernation pod. As he walked, he could hear the frantic tapping of Markova, and could imagine the various bits of classified information brought up.

"Sword," he heard behind him. Meya slowly turned around. Markova had not taken her eyes off the screen, as she sneered, "I'll keep your advice in mind."

...

There was nothing but darkness. This darkness lingered until a sliver of orange appeared. This orange unleashed light, streaming into the room and illuminated the plain bedsheets and wooden desk of the bedroom. This sliver of light became wider and wider, giving shape to a silhouette the shape of a girl. A switch was flipped and everything in the room was revealed with pale fluorescent clarity.

Ovosh exhaled as she surveyed the room. Despite the significant nutrition intake she had partook with Victor and Percy earlier in the day, she still felt as if her stomach required more material to digest for sufficient intake. As a result, her stomach emitted a low rumble, which she sought to calm, placing her right hand over her abdomen.

She maneuvered slowly towards the bed. Upon reaching it, she placed a hand on the covers. Applying pressuring revealed a rather stout mattress and rough covers. She did this for awhile, before she sensed something behind her.

Ovosh turned around, wondering if she was imagining things, or if what she felt was insignificant. Her speculation was cut short, as there was someone behind her.

To her utter disappointment and fear, her eyes met the big green body of Phonium. Her sight traveled to his face, met with the same unmovable, burning glare he wielded since the first moment she had seen him.

Both held this glare for a few seconds, before Phonium broke the silence with a growl, "I suggest you be prepared to wake up early tomorrow. Your training begins."

Ovosh narrowed her eyes. There was suspicion on why he of all beings was the one to announce this fact to her.

Her suspicions were confirmed when he added on, in the same stern growl, "I will be teaching you how to fight."

Sweat began forming on her forehead, and she backed off. There was a sinking feeling within her stomach. Immediately, the Arcosian came to her mind, which shot a sharp pain through her chest. But she could tell the pain was not physical, it was mental.

"I expect you to be present at the training grounds at 6:00am. Tardiness is not suggested. If you don't know where the training grounds are, ask."

He spat out the last words, then promptly turned and swiftly exited her room. Ovosh was left with nothing but a foreboding sense of the next day, and Namekian spittle on her cheek. A hand, shaking ever so slightly, removed the offending saliva. Now it was on her hand, getting cold. A clenched fist warmed it up, as the vibrations in her arm became less tame, and more violent. Her brow furrowed in anger.

She leapt onto the bed with great force. The creak of spring systems in her mattress were heard. The mattress itself was as firm as she had observed earlier. Springing off the mattress, she walked towards the entrance of the door, almost tracing the exact steps Phonium took in his march to the exit. She located the light switch, and flipped it off, then closed the door. Now darkness returned, and consumed Z's newest member in troubled rest.

...

Eyes shot open most swiftly as the bliss of rest escaped Ovosh. Her vision had blurred, and her body was inseparable from the bed. No longer did the face of her Emperor greet her to signify the coming of the new day. But now, it was the face of Phonium, with the most disgusting expression plastered on his face.

"I gave you specific instructions to not be tardy, didn't I?" he growled. Green hands fitted with sharp nails grabbed her gray shirt, jolting Ovosh into complete awareness, and frighting her to her core. Despite being completely awake, she couldn't move a muscle.

"Perhaps you think instructions from a filthy alien such as myself is not worth considering, is that right Imperial runt?" he harshly asked. Foul Namekian breath washed over Ovosh's face, accompanied by a mist of saliva.

Ovosh knew his inquiry relied upon baseless accusations. Despite her conviction, she could not answer him, only small gasps escaped her. His hand was still grabbing her shirt, not her neck. Nothing else blocked her airway or impeded her from speaking. Despite this, she could not give an audibly understandable answer.

The next thing that escaped her mouth was an "ommph" as she landed on the firm mattress. The Namekian, after letting go of the girl, swiftly turned around and began heading out of the room. Realizing that she did not know where the supposed training area would be. Ovosh leapt out of the bed, almost tripping on the bedsheets. She was still wearing her imperial citizen wear, which had become stained and worn because of the excitement of the past two days.

She was breathing rapidly, struggling to keep up with the elusive Namekian. Every time she turned a corner, it seemed he would disappear around yet another. As she raced after him, Ovosh could spot several other individuals stealing looks at her.

Soon, she was led out doors. The sky was dark, the first shades of orange and blue had begun to creep in on the horizon. The binary suns were not visible, as was not Phonium. Ovosh had begun to scan for him. Her bare feet ached, not just from running, but also from the relatively rough surface they were on. Looking down, the ground on Z's compound was lightly colored concrete that blended well with the sandy terrain.

"Imperial drone!"

The offending voice came out from nowhere. Ovosh spun 'round, trying to locate the location of it, for she recognized the spiteful diction of the Namekian. It was to her surprise that Phonium was to her left, arms folded, and glaring at her as he had always done.

Once she had recognized his presence, Ovosh instinctively stood at attention, spine straightened, straight as it was whenever a superior would be in her presence. Her breath slowed, and grew faint as she struggled to reel it in, it's rapid pace a result of pursuing the Namekian.

Phonium approached her, eyes scanning every inch of the girl. He walked in a circle around her, his analytic gaze cruel and eternally critical, searching for some weakness, something to exploit, something to point out.

"Hmph," he spat, "Just like all the others."

He finally circled to the front, his eyes no longer scanning, but now burrowing through Ovosh's pupils, through her skull.

"Alright drone," he spat, "I have only a few months to make you worth something on the battlefield. From I've seen, this will be a... monumental task." As this was said, Ovosh could observe veins protruding from the deep green skin of the Namekian. His sharp white teeth appeared to clench every time they came together.

"Now," he breathed, the voice losing its harsh edge. However, Ovosh sensed something deeper, far greater, far more malicious underlying. As the Namekian crouched down, and clenched his fists, her heartbeat accelerated, her brow began sweating, and her hands began shaking. Her straight posture broke, and she backed off.

"Defend yourself, drone," he ordered, his eyes glowing with vicious resolve, "And show me what you're truly worth!"


	6. Bitter Work

The cool morning air of the desert world of Sanctuary blew through the vast dunes, kicking up dust. On the horizon, the two golden orbs illuminating the entire landscape and sky were seen slowly but surely rising. One had crossed the threshold completely and was now sitting proudly above the gently sloping silhouette of distant dunes. The other, meanwhile, was halfway there, giving the illusion of setting some poor place off in the distance in a blazing inferno.

The winds had calmed down near the sparse compound of Z, but all was not peaceful. New winds were generated from the thunderous sound of blows exchanged and heavy breathing.

Most of the blows came from Phonium, while most of the heavy breathing originated from Ovosh. In the solar illumination, there was not even the lustrous indicator of sweat from the Namekian's brow. She winced, feeling the fresh sting of the bruising she had suffered. Every movement her body attempted was accompanied by more pain. Even a feeble retreat from Phonium's proximity did not escape agony's intimate grasp.

"Again Drone! Defend yourself! Unless you want this demon to best you?" taunted Phonium. A green blur materialized before her eyes. Ovosh barely had any time to raise her arms in a pathetic attempt at defense, as a heavy blow to her stomach sent her airborne. Fluid of unknown composition was ejected and landed in a sad puddle on the sandy ground. No sooner had the her phlegm impacted the ground, then did Ovosh fall along with it. She barely felt the impact, having experienced such an event countless times in the morning

She remained prone, as getting up was proving to be too much for her to handle. Her eyes remained shut as she toiled. A seething heat built up within her, as she struggled to even maneuver her body into a more comfortable position.

The sharp yell of the Namekian didn't help matters, "Get up! Get up! I won't be helping you!"

Ovosh, still seething, began to ascend. Her arms wobbled as they struggled to support her weight. As she began inspecting her arms, she lost count of the amount of darkened patches that dotted the surface of her limbs. A drop of crimson liquid had begun traveling down her forehead, it's cool slimy touch sending a silent chill through her muscles. Ovosh shook her head, and with a low grunt, managed to find her two ailing legs under her, upright. This led her to face the Namekian's unforgiving glare once more.

He had folded his arms, and his feet were spread apart. There was no premonition that he had any intention of striking back.

"Come at me," he urged, his voice low. All harshness was lost, but a malicious growl tainted the baritone tone. "Hit me with all your might."

This time, Ovosh immediately obliged his orders, driven by forces outside of her control, but which originated from her. Her charge was accompanied by a raw scream, as she anticipated immense satisfaction upon her fist colliding with Phonium's jaw.

But just before she made contact, the Namekian had shifted to the side, slow enough for Ovosh to track his movement, but fast enough that she could not do anything about it. The momentum of her blow carried her forwards. She hastily adjusted, with nothing but retribution on her mind. Such a pursuit, however, had forfeited her balance.

A green elbow appeared in front of her a split second before smashing into her face. An audible crack shook the sands, along with a cry from Ovosh as her feet gave out from under her, and she landed flat on her back, a grainy pillow the only object catching her fall.

Ovosh grunted as her vision grew blurry and distorted. Each of her limbs shook, unable to move effectively more than a couple of inches. Blood streamed from her now broken nose, dribbling down and dyeing the sand around her head with sparse spots of red. The soft shift of the course, rough and irritating granules could be heard around her, as the Namekian circled Ovosh's broken body. As her vision came in to focus, she could detect a hint of a smile on his face as he stared down at her.

The girl intensified her struggles to get on her feet. Yet, the ground she lay upon felt more akin to quick sand, and all her efforts were rendered futile.

The Namekian closed his eyes, and all traces of satisfaction disappeared as he lamented, "Pathetic, sorry. You wasted Kei's sacrifice."

A hollow, haunting echo rang within the depths of the girl's conscious. As flint to kindling, such was the spark required to set Ovosh's seething rage to a blazing inferno. While she couldn't summon enough rage to get up, or even move one of her limbs, her mouth was still perfectly functional.

"You stupid slug!" she spat at him.

No sooner did the insult leave her mouth, did a foot descend straight down upon her stomach, sending pain and nausea reverberating throughout her body. Phlegm was ejected from her mouth once more, arcing out in front of her. Her legs blocked the view of the phlegm hitting the ground. She leaned back, winded from the blow, her body lacking any strength for her to even lift her back. But Ovosh was still alert to hear the harsh pace of the Namekian's footsteps.

"You dare utter such insipid words against me?" he seethed. Ovosh could feel the flecks of spit flung at her face, and heat of breath as he rambled on. "Respect your teacher Imperial drone! Then perhaps you wouldn't be so pathetic and predictable! You have no right to say anything!"

His words only caused her heart to race faster, and her blood to run hotter than the suns beating down on her. However, there were no conscious efforts she could enact to satisfy this. She struggled to move, only for pain and sheer exhaustion to hold her back. She fought until fluid flowed out of her eyes, clear as the time she beheld Kei lying lifeless on the Imperial power plant floor. Opening her eyes, she saw the green outline of Phonium smeared by her tears, which had begun moistening the dry ground around her.

He shook his head, "Pathetic, simply pathetic. Reitoko gave me an impossible job"

Her struggles ceased as she processed the Namekian's words. Several thoughts crossed through her mind, many contradicting one another. Her impression of the Arcosian was a positive one, but upon hearing this revelation from Phonium, doubt had been cast.

"Reitoko told you to do this?" she questioned, her voice strained from tears and abuse.

The Namekian's glare intensified, almost as if he was expecting Ovosh to know this tidbit. Every word in his response was articulated with great prejudice. "Yes! Were it not for his own stigma of teaching, he would have to deal with your incompetence instead of me. He tends to handle inadequacy better, yet for some idiotic reason he refuses! But, that doesn't matter now."

His feet were now inches from Ovosh's body as he stood over her. His tall frame blocked out the brilliant binary suns of Capella, leaving his face in shadow. Ovosh felt a pit in her stomach, though anxiety was not the reason, as part of her attention was on Phonium's face, while she also focused on his feet.

He knelt down, bringing his face a short breath away from her's. Once more the black eyes burned deep within her skull. Ovosh could not move to act, but if she could, she would have backed away.

"You have one month to come up with something even resembling a fighting chance," he growled. "If you do not fulfill this, there will be consequences."

And with that, the Namekian did back away. Craning her neck, Ovosh could see him stomping back towards the base. In mere moments, he had entered, and she was left alone, beaten and broken. Groaning, she managed to maneuver so that she was on her stomach, but found this to be a more uncomfortable position.

A bead of sweat dropped from her forehead. The suns were climbing higher, and the heat they were emitting was now starting to become noticeable well into the morning. And, as if there were no end to her problems, an audible growl emitted from her gut.

...

The brown door slammed close. Nothing about Phonium's movement was quiet nor subtle. His footfalls echoed throughout the base as he traveled.

He ascended a flight of stairs, navigating the cramped hallway. The stair room had low lighting, making the cream colored walls appear darker in color. His ascent was quick, as he entered another hallway.

Windows lined the hallway. They revealed the low rolling dunes of sand that appeared to stretch into the distance for eternity. The sheer luminescence of the Capella stars shone through the windows, and set the sky ablaze with orange brilliance. And, just below them, out in the common area, was a girl, on her stomach, struggling to even move.

It was this sight upon which the other in the room, Reitoko, had fixed his gaze on. He was motionless, even his tail was stiff and unmoving. His eyes were wide and blank. As Phonium entered, Reitoko did not move for a few minutes.

The Namekian considered simply walking past Reitoko, leaving him with his thoughts. But, he had known sooner or later, the Arcosian would confront him. So he waited, until Reitoko managed to discern his presence.

The Arcosian's eyes shifted, glaring at Phonium. His quaint pale body had begun shaking, as hands morphed into fists, and teeth clenched. The Namekian quietly and stoically waited as Reitoko tensed up.

His outburst was only a matter of time, as he shouted to Phonium, "What in the name of Frieza was that? Answer me!"

Reitoko's words did little to cause any apparent shift in his composer. He simply replied, "If you are so disappointed in my methods, why not train her yourself?"

"We've already reviewed this." said Reitoko through gritted teeth.

"Then stay out of my way and linger within the sidelines." he commanded. In a multitude of ways, he now talked down to his leader, "I am mentoring a future warrior for Z. I will not tolerate any criticism from those who aren't fit to mentor."

Reitoko 's posture slouched, diminishing his already diminutive stature. His eyes were shut, as he contemplated the dissonance of several thoughts within his head. A black-nailed hand was brought to his temple, massaging it profusely. Clawed feet shifted, creating the sense that if he would be pacing if he lacked the resolve to stand still. All the while Phonium's eternal glare remained, awaiting both a response, and the opportunity to judge the Arcosian's worth once more.

The response was but a desperate, pleading whisper, "If you maintain your methods, you will break her, or worse, turn her against us."

"She's already against us." he asserted, sharpness defining his tone, as accusatory remarks began arising from him. "They all are. Besides, should that event come to pass, I won't be the first of Z to lose their stude-"

The Arcosian's subsequent actions were acted with an instantaneous swiftness. One moment he was brooding by the window, the next he was but a short breath from Namekian. His arm was extended, ending with his outstretched fingers against the Namekian's neck. Reitoko's expression, once one of brooding frustration, was now that of cold fury, with threatening words to match.

"One more word, and you will speak no more."

The Namekian glared at Reitoko, attempting to peel back his cold hard stare to find his true resolve. Time froze as he weighed his options. A small smile formed upon the green lips, as he confirmed, "Understood."

Reitoko slowly backed away as Phonium began walking, betraying no indication that he had been threatened. The Arcosian did not make eye contact as he passed him, and kept his gaze averted as Phonium plodded down the hallway. Reitoko did not see when the Namekian had exited, and neither did it matter to him, as he slowly inched back to the window.

Ovosh had not changed positions upon the sandy ground. Reitoko's heightened senses indicated she was alive and functioning. Still, the sight of the damaged body of the girl upon the sandy ground of Sanctuary was harder to stare at than the bright suns that burned overhead. Closing his eyes once more, and exhaling slowly, letting the various worries of his position pass through him, he made his way to the stair case.

It did not take him long to get outside. The suns' of Capella were beginning to impose their blazing rule over the day, the effect of that felt on his pale skin. But all feelings of discomfort from heat were replaced with the slow empty pit in his stomach, as he saw the girl up close, and the damage Phonium did to her. Helping Ovosh roll on her back, he could see that, while alive, and capable of remaining so for quite awhile, she was barely conscious. Placing a hand on her forehead, he uttered a solemn apology to the girl.

"Forgive me."

...

Mightily did the desert air blow. Great was its velocity, kicking up dust and sand, making it difficult to those attempting to see through it. Through the haze, a small earthen shack lay on the outskirts of a town. Several incandescent and fluorescent fixtures were affixed to the exterior. Their light was inconsistent, as they flickered and dimmed at random.

A rush of wind kicked up more grains of sand, but this was not nature's doing. The source was a vehicle in the midst of this cloud of sand, just outside the shack. The vehicle was small, compact. It had one occupant wrapped in a sand-colored cloak, face obscured by bulky goggle-wear. There was visible rust and wear on the vehicle. In better days, it may have been an immaculate white pod.

No sooner did the vehicle come to a stop did the occupant leap out. He completed this feat with ease, indicating the maneuver was not one he was unfamiliar with. His path to the shack was hindered by intense winds. Despite face protection, a gloved hand was put on his forehead to shield from incoming dust. As he neared the shack, neon letters appeared above the entrance, flickering the words "The arid maiden".

While the interior of the shack proved bereft of the sandstorm's hazy grasp, the air remained considerably clouded. Liberal use of tobacco products inhibited the already dim illumination, as well as contributed to the obscured air quality. Through the softly lit smoke, the man wafted through as he comfortably pulled off his hood and head-ware, unveiling the poofy-haired head of Percy. He took a small sniff, inhaling the carcinogenic atmosphere, before muttering to himself, "No place like home for my kind of scum."

He scanned the area, filled to the brim with occupants. Figures that registered as humanoid, man and woman, milled about the dingy area. Finer details such as clothing, skin, eyes and hidden weapons remained shrouded. Yet, which was most apparent were the substantial metal cans of frothy liquid, gulped down with great ferocity. Others downed smaller containers filled with more potent liquid, but their consumption of the liquid was no less ferocious. The roll of dice, whispers and shouts could be heard, along with the toss of coin, the shuffling of cards and the throwing of darts. Such atmosphere could have fully captured Percy, as a drug would capture an addict.

Percy would not remain ensnared. He shuffled forward, heading towards the front. A dingy counter of wood and some other dank black material awaited him. As he rested his gloved hands on the table, he scanned through the lineup of amber and clear liquids seated pridefully on the back shelf. Silently, judgement was passed upon each vial of intoxication.

The individual tending the bar, a dark-skinned man with a benevolent face, moved to the opposite of the captain. In the muted light, his build appeared slightly heftier than Percy's. In his hand, a musty glass was fruitlessly polished by a tainted white towel.

"I'll have a double," Percy ordered, raising a hand that had been previously rested on the wooden surface.

"Surely that's not the only thing you have come for," responded the bartender. There was a noticeably peculiar way he inflected his words, as if he was attempting to act.

This was not lost on the captain, as he suggested to the bartender, "Lose that formality, your Imperial side's showing up a bit too much. You'd twist the nonexistent panties of my Namekian friend."

"He is not present is he?" inquired the bartender.

Percy let out an apparent sigh, before he leaned in. The bartender took the cue, and leaned in as well. Both eyes darted around for others who would infringe upon them. In a low whisper, Percy said, "Anyways, I've heard from you that O'brian is finalizing the list of attendees of the Budokai Tenkaichi. Got any leads on who's attending?"

"As we predicted." the bartender answered, "The White Fang, Neo Terran Front and Sanin Habib are sending their champions forth. But I have not called you here for that."

Percy backed off for but a moment, giving the bartender a rather curious expression.

"Strange ... that's what I came here for."

Despite the rather relaxed attitude of the captain, the bartender's face, untouched by any apparent emotion, now expressed a furrowed brow and narrowed eyes , "There are indications that Blackjack has registered one of their members to attend in the field of 16."

Percy's eyes widened. He had almost stood up, his hands grasping the edge of the counter. Even in the dark, his face had noticeably lost a shade or two of color.

"Blackjack ..." he breathed. His eyes remained upon the bartender, who was giving the captain a most quizzical look. Clearing his throat, Percy sank back down into his stool, color returning to his face. Placing a finger on his temple, he mentioned, "Reitoko would want to hear about that."

The hand that had seen to his head, now rested under his chin. The aged wood provided a surprisingly soft support for his elbow. Thoughts chaotically swam through his mind, thoughts that he now was struggling to organize.

"I'm surprised, I thought they were crusading in PTO territory."

"Apparently they have returned," the bartender answered, leaving not a breath after Percy's statement, "though from the others, I know not if they reside on Sanctuary. It is possible they have taken residence on one of the outer planets of the Capella system."

There was a shout. Percy quickly turned his head to investigate the disturbance. Several occupants of the tavern were waving their mugs in the air. There was a notable lack of liquid spilling out their rusted exteriors.

This action, of course, did not go unnoticed by the bartender, "I need to go, I have customers to attend to."

"Yeah ... sorry about the mess." Percy apologized. He then reached into his front pant pocket, his long fingers struggling to acquire the desired object. When he accomplished this, he held it in front of his face, making its appearance obvious to the bartender. It was a gold coin, as musty and worn as all things born on the desert haven of Sanctuary. He then placed his thumb under the coin and flicked it off.

The rotating currency was caught with great ease by the bartender, who then placed the coin inside the front pocket of his neatly pressed serving vest. He nodded his head in acknowledgment, before moving out from behind the bar table, venturing into the serving area so that he could tend to his thirsty, delirious patrons.

Despite the crowd, Percy's thoughts remained focused on the new development. _Blackjack,_ he thought, _Mura, wonder what she's up to._

...

The white walls of the lab offered promises of serene sanctuary. Instead, chaos reigned, but not in a way immediately obvious. Little noise could be heard among the labor of the two in white coats working frantically. Test tubes, Erlenmeyer flasks, oscilloscopes, power supplies littered the tables in a fashion only they could comprehend.

The tables themselves were all a light wood color. As the two continued, their legs would shake ever so slightly.

In the back of the room lay a tank of liquid, filled to the brim with clear bubbling fluid. The liquid was not the only thing occupying tank, however.

Held up by buoyancy, lay the motionless form of Ovosh. Bubbles streamed from the mask that covered her mouth from which a gray tube was attached, snaking it's way to a compartment at the bottom of the container. Her eyes were closed, yet the wounds that had hindered her from before were now less apparent. If one was observant enough, second by second they would lose their color, then eventually disappear into the canvas of her skin.

One of the two people in the room ceased their work. Laura Smitter set down a test tube, adjusted her glasses, and simply gazed at the prone figure in the tank. Her lips, a faded fleshy shade of red, wore a small frown.

"Already on the first day of training, she looks like this." she observed. Her voice was choked with revulsion.

Her husband did not disengage from his occupation. His voice carried with it a calm certainty, but was laced with something, that suggested he was not immune, "Did you see Reitoko? He looked absolutely flushed. Even for someone as pale as he is, I never thought he could get any paler."

This comment caused the doctor to whirl about, now glaring at Mr. Smitter. "Travis!" she exclaimed.

"I was being serious." he explained. A high pitched sound emitted from yet another device upon the table. A crucible to his far right was the source. Brilliant orange was the material inside of it, so hot that smoke emitted from its glowing interior. Carefully, with a long pair of tongs, he removed the crucible from the blocky grey device that it was mounted on, and slowly moved the container over a dark metal tray, filled with aligned rows and columns of small holes.

Great was his concentration on the task, pouring white hot material into these orifices, and bountiful was his caution. But, despite moving slowly, little time had passed, before the hot liquid filled each of the small holes in the tray, which itself appeared more than up to the task.

He exhaled upon the completion of his task, and as he disengaged, his expression grew pleasant as he found Laura standing opposite of him. Her arms were folded, and her lips were still curled into a frown. This did not last, as the smile he flashed had met its mark, and slowly, the doctor began to relent, rolling her eyes as her somber expression melted away.

But that moment was interrupted with the sound of a door opening. Both had turned to see who it was. Victor stood in the doorway, his messy golden hair even more tussled, perspiration coating his face and threatening to soak into his baggy mechanics shirt. His own sight was immediately drawn to the prone and damaged form of Ovosh within the tank.

He stared at the tank most intently for a while, before noticing his parents' presence in the room. Swallowing, the young mechanic began to slowly sulk away, back into the other room. This action did not go unnoticed.

" Wait Victor," his mother said, and asked of him, "Come. Sit. Talk for a while. It's been months since we've seen you. Since you were in Imperial Territory..."

The mechanic wiped away some of the perspiration upon his brow. This was to no avail, as a new coat immediately replaced the briefly exposed skin. He still backed off, rather slowly, as he stuttered, "Yeah, Mom ... I know ... B-but... I really have something else to do."

" Such as?" the woman countered. An eyebrow raised, "This... 'something else ' is more important than spending time with your parents?"

The young man's composure changed, transitioning from jittery nervousness, too tediously annoyed, as he grumbled, "Not this again..."

A low bellow was belched from the mouth of Travis, echoing through the white walls. It was a miracle the girl in the tank did not awaken from it. Victor's eyes maneuvered from his mother to his father, still visibly annoyed.

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it!" Travis quipped.

Victor's eyes narrowed, then began darting around. Small grunts were heard from him, some were just sounds, others were partial words. He looked to his father, then to his mother, his grunts transitioning into exasperated sighs. After nearly a minute of this indecisive episode, his shoulders slumped, and he closed his eyes

"Uh ... anything I can do to help? I guess?" he feebly asked.

The older man smiled, as he commended, "A pleasant change of tune". This smile lessened when he caught Victor grimacing. Still, he persisted, "But don't you worry. Your mother and I have got our areas covered."

Despite his assurance, his wife added on, "If you want, three days from now, you can watch me harvest the mature senzu beans."

This suggestion did little to change Victor's current composure.

"So, there isn't anything for me to do?" he confirmed.

For the first time, the engineer stood up. He leaned over the table, closing in proximity to his son. His pleasant demeanor changed to something of desperation, as he explained, "You just came back from a life-threatening mission, and you're still looking to do things? Get some rest son. The next month is going to be crazy."

The explanation did appear to register within Victor's mind. Still, at least a front of his frustration was maintained for his parents

"Fine," he lamented, "I guess helping Percy out with the _Iceni_ should tide me over."

This alarmed Laura, whose eyes had now widened, showing off what effects time had on her face. She began to ask, "When you say 'helping out', you aren't..."

"No Mom." interrupted Victor. He received a disapproving glare from both of his parents. He let out a sigh. The exhaustion he had displayed upon his entrance to the room had now begun to creep back. He turned back to the entrance, and began to drag himself out, relieved that neither parent raised an objection to this.

Travis had slumped down onto the device-filled table once Victor had left. His elbows provided support, as he buried his head in his hands.

"Percy's gone out on some underground contact." he worried aloud, "I really hope Victor wasn't planning on meeting up with him out there."

Laura had now stood, upon seeing her husband slump. A hand was on her chin, as she looked skyword. After a moment of this, she responded to Travis' concerns.

"He's 19." she explained, offering a conciliatory tone.

The engineer raised his head upon his wife's statement. He looked to her, giving her a confused, yet frustrated look.

"Sure," he stated, and began objecting, "And if he keeps going on any crazy adventures with Percy, he won't get to live that much beyond 19."

"I know, I know," Laura countered, "But we're a part of Z. That alone is a very risky lifestyle. It's a miracle we've lived this long."

"But we're not combatants, we're the support."

"That's not why we're still here." she explained. A foreboding look crossed her face, prompting Travis to look away. He looked back to his heavy metal tray, and observed that the white hot metal was now forming a metallic sheen, with a soft orange glow. His gaze then shifted back to the girl in the tank, floating ever so peacefully in the sea of turmoil that had just erupted.

Movement circled behind him. A tingling feeling was felt on his cheek, courtesy of his wife's wrinkled, chapped lips. He gave her a small smile as she departed. He then pulled out some thin metal pins, and placed them in another crucible, going right back to work.

...

Utter blackness gave way to a peculiar feeling. She was weightless, but could feel the mass of her aching limbs. Liquid ebbed and flowed around her, and yet, she breathed easily.

This unfamiliarity was compounded when Ovosh opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry and tinted. Once she had opened her eyes, they had begun to sting. In surprise, she exhaled quickly, producing bubbles that floated to the top of her containment. The walls that surrounded her looked white, but were tinted blue. There was a clearing in front of her, although her crippled vision hindered her from discerning what lay beyond.

The liquid surrounding her began flowing downwards. Churning and whirring of heavy machinery filled every cell of her submerged state. After a moment, a peculiar feeling hit her head, and began slowly traveling down her body. Once it had cleared her head, Ovosh now realized that her head was now swimming in air.

She blinked twice, clearing the liquid from her eyes. As her vision returned, crystal clear, Ovosh could observe the transparent panel that now surrounded her. The clutter that lay beyond it was numerous, unfamiliar, and arranged in a way that committed the sacrilege of disorganization in the most blasphemous way possible.

A woman in a white coat appeared within her field of vision. She gave the girl a kind smile, tapping something attached to her containment. A loud hiss pierced the tranquil silence. With a small pop, the transparent panel swung open.

By then, the liquid had drained to Ovosh's feet. The girl blinked twice, as her gaze veered to her arms, and legs. Her skin was laid bare through the torn and tattered material, no longer close to resembling her Imperial worker's uniform. Not a single injury remained. All scrapes, bruises and cuts had disappeared, as if the liquid she had been submerged in washed them off like paint.

Her feet settled to the bottom once the last of the liquid had evacuated. On instinct, Ovosh moved one hand to the tube connected to her mouth, and began to pull. A curious sensation arose from the back of her throat, as another tube connected to the mouth attachment passed through. With caution provoked by half disgust, and half concern, the invading apparatus slid through the mucous covered passageway, before backing out through her mouth. Ovosh let out several coughs, and bent over to recover.

An unpleasant sensation consumed her, as her tattered and torn clothes, slick from their recent bath, clung to Ovosh's now-healed skin. Slowly, she looked up, shivering as she did so. The woman with the golden eyes remained in front of her, regarding the girl with a most inquisitive expression. Ovosh then noticed, for the first time, a stack of neatly folded navy blue garments resting upon the woman's hand. She regarded them with a questioning glare.

"Looks like you're all healed up!" the woman cheerfully announced, a warm smile spreading across her lips. She then presented the items she held to Ovosh. "Here, these clothes should be more training-friendly than your Imperial civilian wear. There is a changing room just to your left."

"Thank you," Ovosh acknowledged, performing a slight bow. She then received her new garmets, and proceeded to go to the left, as per Laura's direction. Scanning the smooth white walls revealed a door of the same color, which nearly blended into the canvas of white paint. She proceeded through the entrance, and was greeted by a quaint, bare space. Nothing, but four plainly painted walls and a reflective surface to the right side occupied the dressing space. Ovosh shut the door behind her, and began to remove her tattered Imperial uniform, finally shedding the last relics of her former allegiance.

The soggy, torn rags had to be peeled off from her skin, and each discard allowed a chilling breeze to invade the newly exposed area. Once fully discarded, Ovosh performed a check on her entire body, utilizing the reflective wall to its full effect. To her surprise, not a single scratch remained on her from her bout with Phonium. She did not linger on this detail for too long, instead, proceeding to put on her new clothes.

Her new uniform consisted of four pieces. There were two navy blue undergarment pieces, one for her torso, and another for her waist. Her outerwear consisted of a blue tank-top with a high v-cut neckline that managed to cover her collar entirely, while leaving her shoulders slightly exposed, and a baggy pair of light gray pants, which managed to fit rather tightly around her ankles.

Laura turned sharply when she heard the door open, eyes widening in surprise at the swiftness of Ovosh's change. In one arm, she held her soaked Imperial garments in an unrecognizable ball.

"Where should I deposit these?" asked Ovosh.

"Just leave them there, in front of the doorway. Mr. Smitter and I will take care of them." Laura answered, pointing to the spot behind Ovosh. The girl nodded, dropping the tatters behind her, then began making her way to the entrance.

"You got changed rather quickly," Laura commented, which ceased Ovosh's velocity. The girl made no visible reaction to the comment, but did take time to address it.

"I suppose," Ovosh said, and began to make her way to the exit once more.

"I picked them out. We don't have anything too fancy. I'm wondering what you thought about them? Do you want me to pick out anything different?"

A confused look washed over Ovosh's face. She began moving various limbs, testing the movement allowed by her clothes. Her undergarments clung comfortably to her skin, and her new shirt and pants appeared to allow her a wide range of motion. They were also not soaked and raggedy, and smelled of clean detergent, which added to their virtues.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Ovosh responded, then commented, "It appears you have an extremely analytical eye when it comes to matters such as these."

Ovosh could oberserve the doctor wince at her vernacular, but never bothered pondering why. The girl considered exiting once more, but remembered that formalities had not been completely observed on her part.

She turned back, "Thank you."

"No problem," Laura responded with a bright smile. This smile, however dissipated into a concerned expression. With a slightly lowered head, quaintly trembling lips and a troubled brow, she inquired, "I have to ask, what in the world are they teaching you that made you look like that?"

A building heat welled up within Ovosh. She tested her movement once more, with neither the sting of bruises, nor the limits of stiffened tissue to hinder her. Her eyes glared most viciously at the prodding doctor, whose concerned expression served but to agitate her more. For a moment, Ovosh pondered the purpose for such a reaction, yet proved so annoyed that she lingered very little in consideration. Stifling a growl, her response was sharp and curt.

"Nothing."

Frustration mounted within, as it appeared her answer did little to dissuade the doctor, as the woman pressed on, "Are you sure? Ovosh, I'm concerned about this. You should know Reitoko is as well."

Ovosh thoughts wandered back to the Arcosian. _It was he who had assigned the Namekian to this task._ _This makes little sense. Despite his species, Reitoko strikes me as rational. What possessed him to such a decision?_ Such meditations served to only sour her attitude, as she shot back. "There is no need to be concerned."

Without further discussion, Ovosh briefly turned and exited the room before the doctor could corner her any more. The doors automatically opened and closed as she stormed out.

When the white doors hissed shut, the doctor bowed her head, and let out an audible sigh.

Ovosh too let out a sigh. Tightness within her had begun to loosen. Yet, another unrelated concern had begun to grow, as she inspected the unfamiliar hall around her. She looked to her left, then to her right. Her eyes oscillated between both directions, before she determined what she believed to be a familiar landmark. With a sharp turn to her right, she ventured forth.

Her instincts proved on-point, as she was led into the common area. From there, she could observe the hallway that would take her to her room. A massive growl emitting from her gut stopped her in her tracks.

Looking around, her eyes settled upon a large white box tucked neatly away in the kitchen area. The girl briefly recalled this was where consumables were stored away in a cold, temperature-controlled environment. Sluggishly, did she make her way towards the container.

Once reached, she struggled to pull back the heavy, wide door. But, through sheer persistence, she managed. As the entrance swung open, Ovosh was presented with a wealth of options. There were many consumables to choose from. Some resembled the roast she had consumed with Percy and Victor. There were others that presumably came from vegetation, and yet others where Ovosh could not figure out the origins.

She peered at the door, and realized there were even more items embedded within it. Another growl prompted her to hasten her selection, and she decided upon a pale, yellow tinted stick, wrapped in slightly transparent paper.

Ovosh had determined the paper was not edible on instinct, and ripped it away rather ferociously. She placed a finger on the contents within. Her extremity was met with significant resistance, before the surface gave in to her prod. She then took a small bite, and was pleasantly surprised as it melted in her mouth. Salty and creamy sensations began to spread across her tongue. A larger bite was taken, taking with it, a chunk twice as large as the previous. Despite doubling the volume of the previous sample, it melted away in the same amount of time. More was unwrapped, although Ovosh had dispensed with biting sections off, instead opting to shoving as much in her mouth, and allowing the labor of her heat and saliva to nourish.

From behind, the groggy figure of Percy emerged. He had thrown aside his tan colored cloak and goggles, and was currently rubbing his eyes. The mercenary lingered within his occupied mind, not even considering what lay right under his nose. But, as his tired eyes rose to face what lay in front, he was greeted with the sight of Ovosh raiding refrigerator. Upon observing this, did his sullen complexion notably brighten. His gait acquired a light bounce as he approached the hungry girl.

Emerging right behind her, he inquired, "Hey kid watcha got-"

Ovosh turned swiftly around in response to Percy's question, her eyes wide and slightly guilty. Protruding out of her mouth was half of the consumable she had been enjoying. This prompted Percy to form a most peculiar expression on his face. His jaw did slacken, while his pupils appeared to shrink. If he possessed anything to say, it remained stuck in the back of his throat.

Rather uncomfortable at this, Ovosh slowly removed the consumable from her mouth. To her dismay, Percy's expression did not change. Swallowing the remainder of the melted consumable down her mouth, she stuttered, "Greetings. Am I ... doing anything wrong?"

Upon hearing her, Percy shook his head rapidly, letting out a slight chuckle. He resumed his usual relaxed persona, as he responded, "I guess. We don't typically eat butter straight up."

"So this consumable is named 'butter'?" she asked, holding the tattered wrapping in front of her face.

"Yeah," Percy acknowledged, then warned "Don't eat too much of it, it'll weigh you down."

"I find it rather pleasant in the mouth," Ovosh protested, before setting the remains aside.

For the briefest of moments, a mischievous smile crossed the captain's face, before vanishing as smoke in the wind. "Yeah... sure kid..."

Percy's playful demeanor subsided, as he changed the subject, "Anyways, I'd have to ask you, as I've been away from the base all day, how'd your training go?

Ovosh froze, then narrowed her eyes. She turned ever so slightly back to the cold storage compartment. Without looking at Percy, she answered, "My training proceeded ... acceptably."

"Oh really?" Percy asked, raising an eyebrow. "I know they got Phonium training you."

The mere mention of that name sent aches through Ovosh's body, despite the fact she had recovered within that strange containment pod. She looked Percy in the eye, not too pleased that his concern was an exact mirror of the doctor's.

"Indeed," she confirmed, her tone low and flat.

Percy stopped to consider, raising his eyes, as if peering into his brain to see what he himself was thinking, as he most brilliantly observed, "That ol' Namekian doesn't appear too fond of you."

Ovosh caught herself almost rolling her eyes. Inflection abandoned her response, "I suppose that is an accurate assessment."

Silence filled the common area. It was briefly broken with the impact of the cool storage container closing. Ovosh jumped from the sound, while Percy remained visibly unmoved. As her shock settled down, she heard Percy ask, "Well, kid, you mind showing me what you learned so far?"

"Learned?" Ovosh asked, "It's only been a day."

The captain smiled, as his back and hands now leaned on a table. "Retention is a very important part of training," he lectured, "Here ..."

Percy backed away, holding up a finger to his face, before turning away. The tails of his blue jacket flared out as he broke into a sprint, bolting out in the opposite direction. Ovosh shook her head, for the end of the day drew near, and exhaustion had begun encroaching on her. The simple maneuver, in addition to a healthy dose of curiosity of the scheme the captain possessed, kept her alert.

Percy reappeared, but was moving a lot slower this time. He was dragging some sort of contraption. Two parallel black rusty bars provided the base, supporting some sort of suspension system, which in turn, supported a bright red rounded column. It swayed ever so slightly in response to Percy's actions. He grunted once more, closing his eyes tightly, as his hands grew pale from hoisting the strange object.

"Kid, a little help here?" he asked through grunts and groans. Ovosh obliged, running across the white tiles and gray carpet to assist Percy. To her surprise, the doubling of labor allowed the repositioning of the object with great ease. Not even a minute had passed when Percy signaled to stop. He leaned over and stretched out his hands. Heavy was her anticipation, such that she remained still, maintaining her curious gaze on the captain.

He shot up to an upright position, sending a jolt through Ovosh's belly. Her surprise was not enough to manifest visibly, however. Percy directed her to the middle of the two metal supports. Upon following his instruction, she found herself face-to-face with the large red object.

"Show me your stance kid, and smack some sense into this ol' beanie." Percy commanded, patting the mounted object.

"Stance?" Ovosh questioned.

She regretted asking that immediately, as Percy's face assumed a rather quizzical appearance. She could feel herself shrink into nothingness, wilting under the mere gaze of the captain. This sensation did not leave her, even as he clarified, "Yeah kid, get in position to hit this thing?"

"Oh, right," assured Ovosh, as she turned back to the beanie, preparing to strike. There was hesitation, as she was still not very clear on Percy's instructions, but she withheld any more questions.

As she wound up, she had to shift her feet to maintain balance. With a small grunt, she thrust her first forward, feeling the momentum of action carry the rest of her body along.

But, as her fist closed in, standing in her way was the Namekian. There was no indication that he had entered to room, or even that he was nearby. Ovosh let out a gasp as she lost her balance. All wounds she believed healed were repopened. Falling forward, the stoic, yet threatening posture of the Namekian had vanished. All that was left in front of her, was the beanie, which her face struck not a moment afterwards.

She remained in the compromised position for a minute, confused at what transpired. Her aches had disappeared, except for a new one on her face. She could feel the beanie was not entirely solid, giving way as her face had sunk in. The unpleasant odor of aged sweat and unattended grime filled her nostrils.

"Get up kid." heard Ovosh from her left side. A hand was laid on her shoulder. This sensation motivated her to pull away. Ovosh winced as removed her face from the surface of the beanie. Bright red flecks had broken off, and adhered to her skin. When she was finally upright again, she looked back to Percy, but found it troublesome to make eye contact with him.

"Dear God," he exclaimed, though kept a somewhat subdued tone, "What has Phonium been teaching you?"

Ovosh dusted off whatever could have gotten onto her new shirt, allowing her to avert her eyes. Indirectly, she answered, "Combat .. sir."

"Don't 'sir' me kid," he countered. Sighing, placing a lanky hand through his hair, he began critiquing "I'm not going to lie, your stance was complete crap. You couldn't hurt a fly with that. Do you remember what Phonium taught you?"

Ovosh raised her brow, and her eyes, peering back at the black and blue morning within her memories. Pain had been learned, and retained. Stinging insults remained etched in the fabric of her concious. Yet, as she pondered upon her hazy recollections, she could only admit, "I ... he ... didn't mention anything about it."

The captain let out another sigh, "Then we have a problem here. I don't know what's going through that Namekian's head, but you're not going to learn anything with that crap stance."

As Ovosh absorbed what Percy had said to her, he motioned for her to move away from the beanie. She backed off, and he assumed her position. The captain turned to face the beanie, yet his eyes remained on Ovosh.

"Here" he offered, "let me show you."

Percy then crouched down, raising his fists so that they were level with his chest. His relaxed, playful demeanor had been abandoned, supplanted with immense concentration and determination. The captain's fists flew forward in quick succession. Despite him not possessing not an ounce of mystical power, Ovosh found it difficult to trace the path of each blow. A satisfying sound of flesh thumping synthetic material formed an almost percussive rhythm. After he demonstrated the display of his combat prowess, he addressed Ovosh once more.

"See this kid?" he asked, his spindly hands nearly tracing the frame of his lanky body.

"Knees bent, non-dominant in front of the other. Fists up. Wide stance. A lot easier to keep your balance that way. On the balls of your feet, makes it nice and easy to maneuver. Did you get all that?"

"I think." Ovosh assured. Her answer was distant, distracted, as she immediately tried implementing what she heard. Her knees bent, her right foot placed slightly ahead of her left. Her fists rose to chest level. Then, her feet increased their distance between one another.

Her knees buckled almost immediately. Ovosh was brought to an embarrassing genuflect, requiring a hand against the ground to prevent a complete disaster.

The captain shook his head, "You're treating it as a procedure kid. A stance is a stance. It's a state, a piece of mind. It centers you, balances you, and gets you ready."

 _So a step by step approach is faulty?_ With this in mind, Ovosh recalled all what Percy said at once, and opted for a parallel strategy, instead of trying to nail his stance down serially. Akin to gravity, everything appeared to fall into place. Balance was no longer an issue, and became so insignificant that Ovosh felt it unnecessary to devote any attention to it.

"I see," Ovosh commented, maneuvering ever so slightly on the balls of her feet, "what you said makes a monicum of sense."

"Good to know kid." Percy exclaimed, backing away from the beanie. Ovosh resumed her place in front of it. "Now," Percy said, "let's see what you got."

Ovosh unleashed a blow, needing little guidance for it to impact its target. The impact vibrated through her body, but the sensation was satisfying. She repeated the maneuver with her other hand, and kept alternating. Her slow and meandering blows possessed none of the finesse, nor speed the captain had displayed. Yet, all at once, such a standard now had become attainable. The frequency and speed of her blows increased with every strike.

"Remember, punching isn't just using your arms." Percy reminded, "Engage your whole body, that way, you won't be delivering those pea-shooters your dealing out now."

The adjustment was made almost immediately. Ovosh expressed great surprise at how naturally Percy's advice dictated her methods. The percussive blasts of fist against vinyl grew louder and more intense. She could feel the tempo of her blows increase, and allowed herself to fall into a trance. Her body now moved as an orchestra would move without a conductor, so in-tune and in-time with the other parts that such tiresome dictating proved excessive.

Percy allowed himself a small grin, almost humming a tune in-time to the tempo of Ovosh's blows.

"Seems Reitoko was on to something." he mused, a finger upon his chin, "You're a damn natural. I've not really seen someone who could learn so quickly despite not throwing a punch a single day in their lives."

At last, the final fist collided against the worn bag. Ovosh paused, taking a few moments to inhale and exhale. The sensation of air rushing within and out her lungs managed to calm the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

"I'm glad to hear that." she responded, allowing a small smile of her own to show through. Ovosh then took a moment to look at her hands. Both appendages were red from use. As she flexed her fingers, a slight burning tingle coursed through them. But this burn was not unpleasant, in fact, Ovosh rather enjoyed the feeling on her skin.

"There is just one thing I observed."

"Oh?" Ovosh reacted, breaking out of her trance. Percy approached her, stopping alongside her, and held out a fist, akin to him punching an invisible foe.

"A neat little trick I use whenever I get into a scrap is I punch vertically, like this." he said. To make his point clear, he oriented his fist as he described. Ovosh could now observed the curled fingers of his hand more clearly, which were now parallel to the ground, while his clenched palm lay perpendicular. Percy then pulled back his fist, and once more, demonstrated his punching motion. Her eyes caught every moment of motion from his movements as his fist struck the beanie once more.

Upon her satisfaction with the demonstration, Ovosh imitated him, ensuring her fists were turned upright. While she felt felt unnatural, but there was something more she could feel in her blows that was previously not there.

"Yeah, something like that." he complimented, "I find you get more force out of your hits if you do that."

He exited his fighting stance, and faced Ovosh, instructing, "Here, for a demonstration, hold out your hand, and push against this fist here."

"Right," Ovosh acknowledged, as Percy held out a horizontal fist. Ovosh placed a hand against it, and began pushing as per Percy's instructions. She could feel the tension and resistance in Percy's arm as he resisted her, but there was a clear advantage she held.

Percy then turned the fist vertically, and all movement towards his direction stopped. Ovosh glanced at his face, and observed him exerting no additional effort. Additional effort on her part would be needed if she wanted to continue pushing his fist back.

Far back to the entrance of the common room, sulked the small, thin figure of Reitoko. His red eyes darted around, never taking time to pause. As he approached the kitchen area, however, he did come to a stop, upon hearing voices. Slowly, his head turned, facing the general direction of the noise. Already, words were forming within the back of his mind, as he saw Percy resist Ovosh pushing back his vertically oriented fist.

These words would never manifest into something tangible. Instead, a small smile crossed the black lips.

"Interesting," commented Ovosh of the demonstration, "I'll keep that in mind."

"I'd appreciate it if you do." Percy responded. For but a brief moment, he broke eye contact with Ovosh, all for the purpose of a simple glare at the Arcosian hidden in the background.

He resumed, carrying on without missing a beat, "Now, wait here, I need to get that boy. I'm so hungry I could eat a horse."

"What kind of a consumable is 'horse'?" Ovosh inquired.

"Goddamnit kid ..." Percy exasperatingly commented.

Confusion made its way onto Ovosh's face, as her voice raised, exclaiming, "What?"

A small smile formed on the black lips of the Arcosian as he watched the exchange. Satisfied, he resumed his walk, not so much in a hurry, for he had found something he was not even searching for.


End file.
